Tumbling Down
by AngelRosiel
Summary: The sequel to "The Power of Slushies". This means that this story is SLASH (Lance/Pietro), so don't read it if you don't like that. Chapter 8 (or 7): What DID happen to Pietro and Evan, plus some unpleasant revelations for Freddy and dissention in the BH!
1. PrologueAuthor's Notes

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody except for... uh... Blob's girlfriend. Woohoo. Marvel owns everybody else. 

WARNING THINGY: As this is the first chapter, I will state this here and only here. This is SLASH! Boy/boy, or, in other words, I turn your favorite character gay with my evil fairy stick (to rephrase what some people have said to me before >=P). Anywho, that means it's going to be Lance/Pietro as well as some OTHER minor unimportant pairings (one of which is mentioned in what was once this chapter). Also, this deals with other touchy issues. I warned you, so don't get mad at me if you become scarred for life. (Although, the only scene that had a possible touchy subject was in this chapter, which is now dead, so this warning may be irrelevent...) 

A/N: As you can see, the prologue is no longer. I have destroyed it. Why? Because I hate it :D I feel that it totally ruins the story, plus it stuck in me in a shortened timeline that'll really ruin some of the later events. Besides, it doesn't mesh with everything else in the story, and I do so hate suicidal angst. 

So, go on to the next chapter and pretend that it's the real first chapter! Unlike "Slushies", this story actually has *gasp!* a plot! Unfortunately, you have to make it to... oh, Chapter 7 or Chapter 8 to get to the plot. Or maybe sooner. You know, I really don't remember which one. Ah well! Read on! Maybe I'll bring this chapter back revised, but... that's doubtful, since it withdraws more from the story than adds. 

So... read! 


	2. Warm Fuzzies

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: Well, sorry for the wait. Truth is, I had most of this chapter written before 1, but I got stuck towards the end and left it hanging for a while as I wrote other stuff... so... yeah. Good news about the long wait: I have this chapter, Chapter 3, and most of Chapter 4 written! Yay! But you won't see them for a while because they need to get beta-ed and all that good stuff! :P 

Oh yeah, and this features one of my patented Stupid Battle Scenes! God, I hate writing them... Well, okay, there's not exactly a _battle scene_ in this chapter, but there's something kind of like one that I tried to make as short and abstract as possible because bleh to battle scenes and the writing of! Um, anywho, since this was originally chapter 1, there might be some events that were mentioned in Chapter 1 that are repeated in this one. Whatever. I don't feel like rereading this thing anymore to find mistakes. It makes me ill to look at this chapter now. :D 

Anyway, a special THANK YOU VERY VERY MUCH! to my two beta-readers Naisumi and Lyra Doyle (yes, I change beta-readers every story, and yes I use two because I like to get more than one opinion :p) for... well, beta-reading this thing. And another thanks to everyone who wasn't so sickened by the Kurt/Pietroness in Chap1 (and the severe rise on the Angst-o-Meter) that they're actually still reading this! :D 

**Chapter 2: Warm Fuzzies**

Pietro impatiently tapped his pencil against his desk as he stared at the clock. He was in Physics, the last class of the day, and was far too excited to listen to his teacher's lecture over the life of Sir Isaac Newton. Hell, he already knew that the guy discovered gravity, or whatever. 

Something more important than Newton's laws was awaiting him at home. Lance would finally be back after so many months of doing-- well, whatever the hell it was Magneto had sent him, St. John, and Freddy to do. Occasionally, he caught stories of terrorist acts by mutants on the news, and figured it was them and the newer members of the now somewhat expanded Brotherhood. Thank God they had that Mastermind guy, or they'd probably be the most wanted mutants in America. 

Pietro sighed as the clock's hand slowly and tediously shifted to another second. And another. And... ever so gradually... another. 

_Oh, come on. IWannaSeeLance! Hurry! Class, end now!_ Even after a year of attempting to hone them, his amazing mental powers of time control remained non-existent. 

Pietro Maximoff was now a senior at Bayville High School. He was halfway through yet another action-packed, crazy year of fighting the X-Men, committing various anti-anti-mutant acts, and acting like a normal teenager. Well, as normal a teenager as a criminal mutant from some obscure little European country could be. 

The best thing about being a "criminal" mutant was that he was able to commit crimes without those pesky morals getting in the way. In fact, the Brotherhood was finally able to execute their first attack against mankind a year and a half ago, nearly a month after Lance's Senior Prom. 

Around June, the Friends of Humanity (which was but a fairly new organization at the time) decided to have a rally in New York to get other citizens to join their cause. Magneto sent the Brotherhood to destroy the rally and send their not-so-nice intentions to the humans. No more waiting around in shadows, no more small-time fights with the X-Men; it was time for Magneto and the Brotherhood of Mutants to go public-- well the Brotherhood on _behalf_ of Magneto, who felt that breaking up a stupid little assembly was beneath him but okay for the them. 

It started off easily, as most missions did. They watched for a while in the audience as the leader of the rally spewed out a bunch of anti-mutant crap, then they jumped into action. Avalanche sent tremors their way, Pyro toasted the podium, Scarlet Witch threw hex-bolts here and there, and Quicksilver was supposed to catch the leader of the rally and bring him back to Magneto alive while one of the others (most likely Pyro, since he was the only one of them whose identity was really masked by his costume) were to seize a camera and make Magneto's presence known to the United States of America. Easy enough, right? 

Pyro first made the FoH members (as well as the audience) scatter by sending one of his fiery creatures their way, while Avalanche made their escape impossible by disrupting the ground beneath them. 

Quicksilver wanted to watch the stupid bigots burn alive. It was people like them who had had his family destroyed all those years ago, and in his mind, they deserved no mercy. But, he had to get the leader of the rally, so he set off to do so with ease. 

It was when Toad came crashing his way that he noticed the X-Men. He stopped in his tracks and watched, somewhat dumbfounded, as Cyclops' stupid optic blasts hit Avalanche in the back, Blob took on Jean, Pyro went after Storm, that idiot Daniels shot spikes at his sister, and Shadowcat came running to do more damage to Toad. That left Rogue and Nightcrawler for Pietro. Piece of cake, as long as he didn't touch Rogue and... uh... well, he wasn't quite sure _what_ to do with Nightcrawler. 

Through the corner of his eye, he noticed that the cowardly FoH rally leader was attempting to crawl away to safety. _Priorities first..._ he reminded himself, then ran over to the man and quickly hit him painfully on the head to keep him subdued. He swiftly hoisted the rather heavy man over his shoulder and began to make his escape (though slower than he would've preferred, since he wasn't quite sure how his running would affect another person), when suddenly, a certain blue _somebody's_ foot caught him in the stomach and knocked him down. 

_Damn telepor-- ah, crap,_ were his last thoughts as an ungloved hand descended onto his face. 

He woke up later in roughly the same spot, and the small battle was apparently over. Lance and Wanda were standing over him, making sure he was all right, while Todd and a drenched St. John attempted to pull Freddy out of a manhole he somehow (Pietro did not want to know how) got stuck in. 

That was pretty much their first _real_ battle together (as none of them really considered their previous little tiffs with the X-Geeks to be "real battles") as a group, and, ironically, it was also their last. Almost immediately after that failed assignment, Lance and St. John-- being the two eldest and free from the obligations of high school-- were sent off to do missions abroad and expand Magneto's budding little army. Shortly after, Freddy, who had just dropped out of high school, joined them, leaving Wanda, Todd, and Pietro behind in Bayville. With the extra space in the house and the fact that neither Mystique nor Magneto trusted Pietro and Todd alone with the home at their mercy, Wanda moved in right after Freddy moved out. 

Since then, Lance and the others had been in and out of Bayville quite a few times, usually just there to rest with their "family" between missions. Today was going to be another one of their "ins", as they were to be returning home for a few weeks. In fact... 

Pietro looked at the clock again. Yup, Mystique would be leaving the airport with them by now... 

_Come on! I don't give a damn about Sir Isaac Newton! I only want Lance Alvers right now!_

School was not exactly Pietro's favorite place to be, especially after Lance graduated. For the few weeks of school that had followed their "coming out", Pietro was privileged enough to find himself being insulted, avoided, or threatened left and right. Luckily, Duncan-- who was usually the ringleader when it came to bullying misfits-- didn't have much to say on the matter, probably because after Prom Night he was sporting quite a few bruises courtesy of-- well, Pietro wasn't quite sure. From what he'd heard, though, John, Summers, and Duncan were kicked out of the dance shortly after he and Lance left. For Pietro, that was a nice little victory. Not only did he get to hit Duncan, but he also inadvertently ruined Summers' Senior Prom. 

As rocky as things used to be, he was more or less accepted now, save the occasional insult here and there. The only thing that really bothered him these days-- besides Lance's absence-- was Rogue. 

When she wasn't glaring at him, she was sending him pitying looks. This would be because currently, she knew more about his own life than he did. He used to wish she would absorb his memories simply so he could ask her what had happened, but after she did touch him, he found that he couldn't stand to ask _her_, of all people, about his past. 

_Dumb X-Men..._ Slowly, they, like the Brotherhood, were expanding (and other "superhero" groups were sprouting about the US as well, making groups like the Brotherhood horribly outnumbered). Okay, scratch "slowly"; they were moving at a slightly faster pace than the Brotherhood. Their first new recruit after they thwarted the Brotherhood's plans for the FoH was some Cajun guy who Rogue seemed to be quite infatuated with, from the looks of things. Most recently, however, they had some kid Pietro's age named Bobby Drake hanging out with them. Pietro had discovered Drake's powers more or less by accident. 

_"Iceman",_ he thought mockingly, _I wonder what's gonna happen when John meets up with this guy whose powers are the opposite of his..._

Pietro could see it now: Pyro shoots a flame at Iceman, Iceman freezes it; Iceman shoots some... well, ice at Pyro, and Pyro melts it. What an irritating stalemate that would be. 

_'Course, it wouldn't be a stalemate for long, since the X-Freaks always gang up on us to beat us, which really isn't fair! I mean, we're expecting a one-on-one fight, and here they come bringing three people to fight one guy! That's so biased!_

Pietro glanced at the clock one more time, wondering how many more minutes could possibly be left. To his surprise-- and joy-- the seconds hand was inching closer and closer to his freedom. 

_Come on, come on, comeOnComeOnComeOn!_

With the final *_brrrring_* to satisfy his impatient yearning, Pietro was up and running home. 

* * * * * 

"Lance? Are you still mad?" 

No reply. Just an angry huff and a scowling face. 

"Um... I'll take that as a 'yes'?" 

"I'm tired," Lance grumbled sullenly. "Thanks to _you_. Why'd you want to do it at two in the morning?! Kept me up so long, I barely slept!" 

"Because that's when I do it best! Sorry it was so late, but I just felt kind of... inspired all of a sudden. You know what that's like, right?" 

"Uh huh." A dry, irritated reply. "You could have just as easily done it while I was sleeping." 

"Well, what the hell is the point of that?! It's more fun when you're awake, Lance." 

Freddy stared at the two, suspicion etched on his face as he thought for a moment. "Are you two sure you're not sleeping together?" 

"_Yes!_" was the dual, insistent response. Lance then added: "What do you think we're talking about, Freddy?" 

"Sounds a little bit like sex." 

"I was talkin' about my newest story, you big dolt!" John snapped in defense of his sexuality. 

"Huh?" 

Lance sighed and decided to explain the conversation that Freddy apparently considered to be quite cryptic. "Writer Boy here just had some crazy spurt of inspiration last night, so he decided to type it up, wake me up, and yak about his newest novel to me at _two in the MORNING!_" 

"I'm _sorry!_ It's just, well, I've had writers' block for so long and the new ideas kinda came to me and I had to do _somethin'_ about it!" 

"So you wake me up by leaping onto my bed and telling me all about your new ideas?" 

"Well, yeah. It's usually Wanda's job to listen to me, but she's not exactly _here_, is she?" 

"Could've called her." 

"Oh, come on, mate. You should be _honored_ that I chose to let you in on my new story." 

"I might've been more honored if you chose to wait 'till the sun rose, instead of coming at _two in_--" 

"Okay, okay, Lance, I get it. Sorry." 

"Yeah, you'd best--" 

"Oh, will you two _shut up_?" Mystique suddenly cut in. She glared irritably at the road as she continued to their house in style with some ratty old Dodge van. One big problem about being a member of the Brotherhood: most of their cash went to Magneto's little secret projects. Still, the van was convenient, as it was probably the only vehicle that could squeeze in Freddy, who had only gotten larger over time, and the other two, along with their luggage. 

Nevertheless, she would've rather escorted the boys home in a sportier, much more stylish car. That, or at least make either Lance or John (or, better yet, both of them) ride on the roof of the van so she wouldn't have to listen to any juvenile bickering. Being around the boys made her feel way too much like a mother. That was not a very good feeling, as they were now entering their twenties, resulting in her feeling much older than she wanted to. 

"Hey, Mystique... do you think Magneto already knows that we--" Lance started, but was abruptly cut off with a "Yes." 

"That's not good," Freddy commented, stating what was pretty obvious to the other two. 

"Ya think?" A sarcastic reply from Lance. 

"Great, he's gonna skin us alive," St. John muttered, slumping back against the seat. He then shook his head and attempted a perkier outlook. "Oh well! At least we _almost_ succeeded, which is better than failing miserably! So, I, for one, will remain optimistic about the situation! See? Big smiles!" 

"Almost succeeding is the same as failing, idiot! Magneto's gonna kill us!" Lance retorted. 

The smile was replaced with a slight pout and a roll of the other boy's eyes. "Hey, I tried, didn't I? He won't kill us; the worst he'll do is dock our pay, which I don't think is much of a problem, since we don't get paid." John paused, then broke into another smile. "Well, _I_ get paid because I published a bo-o-ok," he added in a singsong voice. 

"Yeah, we're all very happy for ya," Lance murmured under his breath. 

"We coulda done the job if those damn X-Men didn't show up last minute. How is it they always know when there's somethin' going on?!" Freddy suddenly said, throwing in his input. 

"Hm, I guess since half of them are out of school now, they got nothin' better to do than follow us around," John shrugged. 

Lance nodded in agreement, occupying his mind with other things. Apart from his worries about how Magneto would react to their characteristic failures, he was also preoccupied with other bothersome musings. He watched Freddy and John go on with their conversation with pensive eyes. 

Yes, very important things currently occupied the vast space in Lance's mind... 

_Wow, Freddy's big. This van smells funny. Is this part of our punishment for failing to assassinate-- uh... I forgot his name now. Hmm... Whatever. Man, I want sleep. Stupid Johnny. Had to go and wake me up just to tell me about his story. Okay, it was pretty interesting, but still, I'm tired now. That damn airplane, I'm never gonna get used to those things! I wonder if Todd stole any of my CD's while I was gone..._

Lance frowned at the thought of the possible thieveries. Then, pure, unadulterated tedium set in. His eyes bored past St. John and into Fred's massive gut, though he wasn't focused on the bloated sight before him. 

_Sleeeeep..._

Lance shook away the drowsiness and settled his gaze on the blonde pyrokinetic. 

_I wanna fuck him,_ was basically the cleanest of his lazy thoughts. _I wonder what Pietro would say if I told him-- would he offer to join? That'd be interesting, except that I don't think he would... and neither would Johnny. Mmm, he's so cute... not as cute as Pietro, but he's still cute--_ And it was about here when Lance fully realized what he was thinking and jerked back with a startled expression. _Ah crap! No! These thoughts are induced by sleepiness and nothing more! I do NOT want to screw my best friend! It'd be like doing my brother-- except that I don't have one, but if I did, it'd be the same thing! Damn, I need to get to my nice bed right now._

"Lance? What's wrong, ma--" 

"Nothing! I just miss sex-- yup, that's it! Nothing more!" he suddenly exploded, slightly panicky. He reddened with embarrassment, cleared his throat, then attempted to act casually calm. "You know what that's like, right? I mean, I'll bet your looking forward to seeing Wanda and engaging in perfectly heterosexual sex, right? _Right?_" 

"I don't think there's any other way I can--" 

"Good! Very good!" _See, Lance? Nothing to worry about! Even if I do have stupid lust, that's all it is: LUST. Screaming, crazy lust, but that's just because I've been alone with Johnny and haven't seen Pietro at all these last couple of months, so it's perfectly natural! And he obviously wouldn't return my feelings, anyway, because he's looking forward to heterosexual sex with his girlfriend! Plus, I love Pietro._

Lance smiled dumbly to himself and felt stupid warm fuzzies grow inside. Well, at least growing warm fuzzies was better than having _something else_ growing. He felt proud of himself, for some reason-- proud that no matter how lascivious he was feeling about random girls or boys, he could always say that he loved Pietro and mean it. 

Of course, the downside to saying (or mentally declaring) "I love Pietro" was that in doing so, it always spawned the warm fuzzies in his insides, and it was a fairly well-proven fact that warm fuzzies happen to induce stupidity on seismically-inclined mutants named Lance Alvers. 

"Avalanche, please remove yourself from this van and get your luggage," came the order from the rather relieved Mystique (who had stopped calling him "Mr. Alvers" since his graduation), snapping Lance out of Fuzzy Land. She seemed glad that they were finally home and the car ride from Hell was officially over. 

"Huh?" He looked around and saw that John and Freddy were already out of the van and lugging their bags inside the house. "Oh, sure," he affirmed, snatching his two duffel bags and hopping out of the vehicle. "When do we report to Magneto?" 

"I thought I already told you earlier." 

"I-- uh-- forgot," was his cover-up for not listening. 

Mystique rolled her eyes and replied with: "Half-past nine tomorrow night, my place." She seemed rather peeved about the latter detail, even though they had been meeting there more since Lance, Freddy, and John had left Bayville High. "It's only for you three in regard to your latest failure, as well as some of your future tasks, so don't bother telling the others." 

Lance nodded and shut the van door. He walked through the already open front door and set his bags down in the living room. "Home, sweet home." 

"Just as shitty as when we left it," John said with a grin. 

"I don't know. I sense a woman's touch here," Freddy commented. 

Lance and John looked at each other. Sometimes, Fred was just a little _too_ easy to get. 

"I doubt you know what a woman's touch feels like," Lance joked. 

"Hey, I have a girlfriend, too, ya know! Er, except that you have a boyfriend, but I guess that's the same thing, right? I mean, not that I'm calling Pietro a _girl_, but..." Freddy, having already stuck his foot in his mouth, decided it was probably best to just trail off and leave it at that. 

At the mention of Freddy's girlfriend, St. John's expression soured slightly. Fred was still dating that quiet little Amy Greene girl, who John very adamantly insisted was the daughter of Satan. Nobody believed him, though. She seemed civil enough. In fact, their only real qualm with her was the little fact that she knew they were mutants, thanks to Freddy's big mouth. However, they didn't have to worry about having to arrange a sudden "disappearance", as she swore she wouldn't tell anybody about their secret, and had, so far (to their knowledge, anyway), kept her promise. 

Still, as nice as she was to all of them, John despised the girl. He claimed that she only showed her true face when they weren't around, which resulted in him being teased for his paranoia by Lance and threatened by Freddy. 

"I wouldn't call _that_ block of ice a girlfriend, pal," muttered the Australian under his breath, then went on in a slightly louder voice. "I wonder when Wanda's gonna get home." 

"Who knows," Lance shrugged. "All I know is--" 

"_Lance!_" 

"_Aaaah!!_" And with that, Lance went skidding across the ground, tackled from behind by his catapulted boyfriend. 

"_LanceLanceLance!!_ I'm so glad you're back! You don't know how much I've missed you!! ButNowYou'reFinallyHomeSoWeCanCatchUpOnLostTimeAndKissAndYou'reHome!! IMissedYouSoMuch! Let'sHaveSex!" 

After months of being away, Lance was a little rusty at deciphering the language of Pietro, so he simply answered to the parts of the little exclamation that he actually understood. "I missed you, too." He rolled over onto his back and stared up at his hyperactive boyfriend, not really caring that he was practically being straddled by the other boy in front of Freddy and John (with the front door open, to boot). "Give us a kiss?" 

"Since when did you start speaking in first-person plural?" Despite his questioning, Pietro leaned forward and nibbled on Lance's lower lip before going on with more talking. "Let's go out tonight. There's this new restaurant in town, and it's pretty good; Wanda and I ate there once. The only problem is that it takes too long for them to make the food. Hmm... We could go to Starbucks instead, since you're looking pretty tired and all. Or, we could catch a movie. There's that new one with--" 

"Pietro, sorry, but I don't think I can. I'm so exhausted right now, and I've got to catch up on sleep because _someone_--" 

"I said I was sorry, damn it!" 

Pietro blinked a few times and glanced at John. "Sorry for what?" 

"He's just bein' a little whiner 'cause I woke him up at two AM." 

Arching an eyebrow, he prompted suspiciously, "Why?" 

"Um... because I felt inspired?" John tried. 

"Huh?" asked Pietro with confusion. "Okay, nevermind. I don't want to know." He turned his attention back to Lance. "So, you really don't want to do anything tonight?" 

"Well, maybe after I'm rested up, we can..." 

Pietro shushed him by placing his finger against Lance's lips and giving him a crooked grin. "Way ahead of you. You sure you can keep up with me this time?" 

"Keep up with _you_?" Lance quirked an eyebrow. "Oooh. Sounds like a challenge." 

"Hey, don't steal my catch-phrase." 

"Sorry," Lance said with feigned guilt. He struggled to sit up, resulting in a rather awkward and somewhat sexual position. "Uh..." 

"Gah! Not yet," Pietro said suddenly, climbing off of Lance. He stood up, brushed himself off rather primly, then helped the other boy up. "Go get your sleep." 

"With pleasure-- hey, is that a new shirt?" Lance motioned a hand at Pietro's somewhat oversized sweater, which was the same gaudy shade of orange as those "Construction Ahead" traffic signs. 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"It's tacky." Lance suddenly found himself being shoved by a scowling Pietro. 

"Hey, don't insult my fashion sense! Well... nevermind, I guess you could insult it, since Wanda was the one who picked it out..." Pietro looked down at his ensemble for a moment, then shrugged and lifted up Lance's bags and started up the stairs. "Come on. Your room's pretty much the same as when you left it." 

"Okay-- wait, 'pretty much'? What's different?" Lance asked as he followed. 

Pietro turned his head and smirked at Lance. "Your CDs live in Todd's room now." 

"What?!" 

As the two went upstairs, Freddy and John stared after them. 

"No 'hello'?" 

"No 'welcome back'?" 

"Well, I, for one, am hurt," John said sarcastically. Just as soon as he uttered the words, a flash of bright orange and white sped back down the stairs, and he was quickly pulled into a hug by the speedster before he could protest. "_Aah!_ Hey!" 

"Whoa, I'm glad he didn't-- aah!! Get offa me, Pietro!" cried a distressed Freddy. 

"Hello! Welcome back!" And with a frightening laugh and another flash of garish colors, the hyper boy was back upstairs with Lance. 

"I shouldn't've said anything," St. John muttered with a small smile, making his way into the living room and throwing himself down onto the couch. He was a little afraid of going into what was once his room, as it was now Wanda's and he didn't want to know what she did to it with her "woman's touch". Last time he saw it... He shuddered. _Don't wanna think about it. Mmm... this is a nice, comfy couch. I could just fall aslee--_

"Yo! You guys are back!" 

"Todd!" an obviously excited Freddy exclaimed, greeting his younger friend. 

_Or not._ Lazily, John reached his arm up and waved at the boy, not bothering to get up from the comfortable, sleep-inducing sofa. Not bothering, that is, until he heard a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad voice. 

"Fred!" 

_Her._ Hiss. John sat up threw a scalding glare at the tiny girl as she threw her arms around Fred's massive form adoringly. _Am I the only one who sees her for her true, abhorrently malevolent self?!_ he wondered as Freddy took his girlfriend's hand and delicately led her into the house. They went straight for the kitchen. Todd, meanwhile, shut the door and hopped into the living room, stopping right in front of John. 

"Hey, man. You gonna spend your first day back on the couch?" 

"She's evil." 

"Aw, not this _again_..." 

"I'm serious! Why doesn't anyone believe me?!" 

"Look, man, I don't know what you're smokin'; she ain't evil. Hell, she treats me decently. _Me_, the toad-boy. I think that's sayin' something." 

"That says-- well-- she-- you're stupid, shut up!" _Great, now I'm sounding like Lance._

"You're calling _me_-- oh, never mind. Hey, I finally got around to readin' that book you wrote." 

John sat up, interested, and looked at Todd expectantly. "And...?" 

"You sure you're not gay?" 

"Shut up!" 

Todd chuckled and then turned his attention back to Freddy and the kitchen. "Yo, Fred, come on, let's get the unpacking out of the way now." He turned back to John and explained in a low voice: "I figure it'd be best to keep him busy 'til Pietro does the grocery shopping, you know?" 

"Yeah. Hey, where's Wanda? Shouldn't she have come back with you?" 

Todd glanced around uncomfortably for a moment, then said, "Ahh... well, she's, uh, at cheerleading practice, I think." Freddy emerged from the kitchen at that moment, and Todd practically bolted upstairs before he could be questioned further. Freddy followed, oblivious to his small friend's somewhat panicky behavior. 

"Trouble in paradise?" 

John frowned tightly and looked over at Amy as she entered the living room and made herself comfortable on the other end of the couch. _Evil. Evil, evil, evil. Why doesn't anybody believe me?!_ He shook his head, both to dismiss his thoughts and to answer her question. 

The girl smiled thinly at his response, then replied in an airy tone, "I'll bet you didn't even know she's a cheerleader now." 

"Well, even if I didn't, that doesn't mean anything!" 

"Maybe," she shrugged casually, then stared at him almost analytically with piercing brown eyes. "You know, I read that piece of literary garbage you call a novel. Freddy insisted that I did. He said it was probably a great book 'cause you used a lot of big words he didn't know, or something... I don't understand how trash like that could've gotten published." 

"I'm sure a frigid little chick like you wouldn't appreciate the beauty of love and romance," John murmured indifferently, throwing his gaze up at the ceiling. Currently, the bland plaster was holding his attention more than the girl who seemed to have multiple personality disorder (which only showed when he was around, apparently). Well, that was the impression he was trying to give, anyway. Truthfully, he wanted her head to spontaneously combust. _Yeah, that'd be nice..._ "I hope the sex scenes weren't too hard for you to stomach. After all, you've never been laid in your life, so it was probably uncomfortable for you to read about it." He took his eyes away from the ceiling and smirked at Amy as her pallid skin blushed to a blotchy red. 

"How would you know if Freddy and I had sex or--" 

"_Aahh!!_ You deserve to die for that mental image!" John cried, covering his ears in hopes that the action would somehow filter away terrible "naked Fred having sex with the spawn of Satan" thoughts. 

"Oh, please," she scoffed, throwing him a condescending sneer. "Why anyone would want your skinny ass is beyond me, so don't even start on Freddy just because he has a little meat on him." 

_A _little_ meat?! That girl needs new glasses..._ "Well, Wanda wants my 'skinny ass', so that's good enough for me," he retorted with an annoyingly cheerful grin. 

"Are you sure?" There was a hint of triumph on her face as he stopped grinning and gave her a questioning scowl. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that I absolutely, positively _loved_ your book!" 

"Huh?" Well, that was a confusing statement if he ever heard one. John wondered briefly if Amy was simply bi-polar or something, but then all of his baffled questions were answered as Pietro and Todd came down the stairs. _Ah, she's throwing on her act again just to make me look like a psychotic ass._ "Oh, yeah. The book." 

"Hello, Pietro, it's good to see you again!" she continued in her sickeningly sweet voice. "That new sweater's just _adorable_!" 

"_This?_" Pietro looked down at his clothes again and shrugged. "Huh. Okay." He turned his attention to John suddenly, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him from the couch. "C'mon, let's go." 

"Hey!" John cried out as he was yanked from his comfy position. "Where and _why_?" 

"The grocery store. Because I can't drive." 

"Still?" 

"Cars are too slow. I never felt the need for a license," Pietro explained hastily. 

"I can drive! I got my license, remember?" Todd piped up with visible excitement. 

"Yeah, and you almost got me killed last time I rode with you," Pietro snapped in return. "C'mon, Allerdyce. Pleeeeease? We're going to pick up Wanda from cheerleading practice afterwards." 

John looked back at the couch warily, then at Pietro. Hm, it was a choice between being stuck in the house with Freddy's demented girlfriend, or going to the grocery store and later seeing Wanda. Such a hard decision... "Okay! Count me in! Let's go!" he quickly responded, snatching his coat and running for the door. 

Pietro started after him, but was stopped as Todd grabbed his arm firmly. 

"You gonna tell him about--?" Todd began in an undertone. 

"No. I'm going to leave it up to her." 

"But--" 

"Don't worry about it, Todd," Pietro hissed quietly, then shook the smaller boy off and headed for the door. 

* * * * *

A/N: Well, this chapter was either a disappointing piece of crap, or it's good, or it's simply mediocre... Personally, I have no idea anymore. :D Anyway, don't get your hopes up about Gambit. Poor fella probably won't be in this fic all that much. The only reason why I even added more X-Men was because I had to. It wouldn't make any sense for the Brotherhood to expand and not the X-Men. Anyway, Gambit's going to be a cameo character (if things go the way I plan), but Iceman will actually have a role in this (which I had not originally planned, but my muses went insane and one of the people that's Madame Moonbeamshinystardust gave me some ideas that won't go away >.<), and some other guys might make brief appearances later. Wow! 

There was something else I was gonna say, but I don't remember anymore. I'm so damn tired right now (yes, even though it's 3:30 in the afternoon)... my sense of humor seems to have died as a result. Wah. Oh well, when I'm more awake, I'll annoy the crap out of my beta-readers and then post Chapter 3! 

(Oh, wait, now I remember what I was gonna say! Yes, Fata Morgana, you are very much right. That's exactly why I chose Kurt [ick] instead of the other X-Men! Now you people know why I did what I did, so please don't think I actually enjoy the thought of Pietro and Kurt together :P) 


	3. Silly Pyro, Trix Are For Kids!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: Okay, I'm sooooooo wired on caffeine now that I had to have something to do. So what did I do? I decided to be wonky (not that that word actually fits in the sentence... I just wanted to use it) and just post this without talking to my beta readers *g*. Why did I do this instead of something else? Uh... because it's 2 in the morning and I feel like it, so :P! Yeah... and all that.... Um, anyway, this chapter took me a total of one day to write, so it's overall quality may not be the best. Hell, this chapter pretty much serves no purpose anyway, it's just to clear up some things in Chap2 and satisfy my insane muse... 

**Chapter 3: Silly Pyro, Trix Are For Kids!**

If there was one thing Pietro had learned during his time with the Brotherhood, it was that grocery shopping with John was a lot easier than doing it with the others. With Freddy, it was particularly difficult because the guy wanted virtually _everything_ in the place, excluding healthy "rabbit food", of course. Lance went nuts for coffee-- all brands and flavors were fair game-- and chips, along with other junk. Todd was a little more responsible when it came to food than the others, but he was a sugar fiend, and Pietro wasn't in the mood to buy all sorts of sweets that he wasn't allowed to eat-- the temptation was too terrible for him. Besides, being in the same car as the guy made Pietro fear for his very life. Wanda had about the same taste in food as he did, but she was the polar opposite of Fred when it came to shopping; junk food was simply out of the question. Shopping with John was usually easiest for Pietro, since the guy was all for healthy stuff, but didn't protest like Wanda did when Pietro loaded up the cart with chips, sodas, and other calorie loaded food for the rest of the Brotherhood. 

Plus, John liked to speed while driving (and, unlike Todd's driving, it didn't result in Pietro nearly getting killed), so it made him all the more Pietro's choice for shopping partner. 

"Think we need this?" 

"How many calories?" 

"Uh..." Pietro checked the back of the box and searched the nutrition facts. "300 per serving." 

"Perfect. Freddy'll love it," he replied, snatching the box from Pietro and tossing it into the cart. 

"Hey, you think we should do something special for Christmas?" 

"Hm? Like what?" 

"I don't know. But, you know, you guys missed it last year, and Thanksgiving this year--" 

"Thanksgiving? What a crock of a holiday." 

Pietro remembered who he was talking to and laughed. "Right. You don't celebrate Thanksgiving. Well, do you think we should do something special for Christmas dinner? I mean, I have some money saved up for extra food, since I know Mystique wouldn't loan us any for something like that..." 

"Yeah, I'm up for it. Christmas here blows, anyway, so it'll be fun to do something different." 

"Blows? Why're you saying that?" 

"Snow. I hate snow, 'specially around Christmas. Christmas isn't supposed to be snowy, it's supposed to be nice and warm and... and... not cold!" John explained fervently as he dropped some potato chips for Lance into the cart. 

"Oh, yeah. I forgot you come from that whacko hemisphere," Pietro joked. 

"Whacko? I'll take that as a compliment. Anyway, it's not for another month, so why're you askin' now?" 

"Just wanted to know ahead of time. Think you can help me cook? Wanda's already volunteered," Pietro hinted, knowing full-well that the blonde would agree to it if Wanda was doing it. 

"Sure, why not." 

"Excellent. Should we get a Christmas tree this year? Well, one of the not-crap variety, anyway." 

"I'm not payin' for one." 

"Hmph," Pietro pouted as they made their way down the aisle. "You're the only one of us with actual money, though!" 

"Yeah, right! My parents stopped sending me cash when I turned nineteen." 

"But you get money for your book," Pietro pointed out. 

"Huh. Well, yeah, but not a lot. It's not exactly a best-seller, you know. Why're you making such a big deal about Christmas this year, anyway?" 

"Because, it'll be our first time to spend it _together_, like a family. Last year it was just me, sis, and Todd. This year it'll be all of us. The _original_ Brotherhood, anyway, not those other losers you guys picked up." 

"Hey, some of them aren't total losers. Phantazia, for one-- she's a real sweet girl, and... uh... okay, most of them are losers," John admitted with a shrug. "But, hey, at least they aren't X-Men." 

"I guess," Pietro acknowledged, reluctant to agree to the fact that the rest of the Brotherhood outside of Bayville weren't complete losers. "Oh, speaking of which, they got another new recruit." 

"Really?" John asked flatly. 

"Yeah. You'll love him," Pietro returned with a grin, then smacked himself on the forehead. "Ah, I almost forgot some stuff! You go to the cereal aisle, I'll meet up with you there, okay?" 

"Um... sure, okay." As Pietro ran off (slowly, so as to not draw a lot of attention), John strolled along the rows of food and found his way to the cereal aisle. "Okay, what do we need? Todd likes Lucky Charms, so..." He snatched a box of the marshmallow-endowed cereal and dropped it into the cart. "Fred likes... anything." He then grabbed five boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, hoping it was enough cereal to last them at least a week, then decided that it wasn't and threw in four more. "And-- hey, Trix!" 

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the aisle, a teenage guy with a mop of light brown hair pushed his own cart towards the fruity cereal exclaiming, "Hey, Trix!" 

Shopping carts collided as the two reached for the same box featuring the same smiling cartoon rabbit. 

"Ah-- um, sorry," they both apologized in unison. 

John backed off a bit and allowed the kid to grab his cereal. "Um, sorry 'bout that." 

"Hey, no problem," the guy returned, tossing a box of Trix at John. "Cool accent. Where in Australia are you from?" 

"Sydney," St. John answered with a half-smile. He offered his hand and the two shook in greeting. "My name's John-- well, St. John, but nobody really calls me that, anyway." 

"I'm Bobby and everybody calls me that," the boy replied with a grin. "I'm kind of new to Bayville-- never seen you around before." 

"Oh, well I've been in and out of town for a while now." _Committing crimes, fighting the X-Men... you know, doin' guy stuff_, he thought dryly. 

"And I see that you _really_ like Cinnamon Toast Crunch," Bobby noted with amusement. 

John looked down at the somewhat liberal quantity of cereal and said, with a hint of embarrassment, "Those aren't for me. Um, I'm shopping for my 'family', and my... uh... 'brother' likes to eat a lot, so I thought I'd just stock up on food and--" 

"No need to explain, man," Bobby cut in with a chuckle. "Hey, this may sound kind of weird, but... well, I don't really have many friends outside of the people I live with, so I was wondering if-- maybe-- you wanted to go out for coffee-- or something-- sometime." 

"Sure! That sounds like--" 

"What the hell?!" 

"When did _he_ get back?!" 

"Oh no, that means, like, Lance and the Blob are back, too!" 

"--fun," John finished with an annoyed sigh. He glanced at the X-Men (well, Evan, Kitty, and Scott, anyway) in irritation as they paraded into the aisle, returning his irked look with glares of their own. "What the hell do you want?" 

"Bobby, what are you doing talking to this guy?" Summers hissed in an a lowered voice as he pulled the younger teen away from Allerdyce's general range with the assumption that the pyrokinetic had some dastardly plan up his sleeve. "He's part of the Brotherhood." 

"Huh?! No way..." 

"Like, he's Lance Alvers' best buddy, or something! I thought we warned you about him!" 

"Yeah," Evan supplied as Bobby still maintained a rather blank look on his face. "Remember? Pyro?" 

"Oh, him! Really? John seems like such a nice guy--" 

"I am a nice guy," John said, flashing a perky grin that made Scott want to punch him. _So much for making a new friend._

"Just get out of here before I spike you, man," Evan threatened in a low growl. Despite the fact that the little dork had grown into a rather tall, somewhat muscular guy thanks to athletics (_Talk about a growth spurt. Oh well, he's still the same old loser._), John just gave him a funny look and laughed off the threat. 

"Hey, it's a free country and I can be anywhere I bloody well want to be, Spikey. Besides, see the shopping cart? Food keeps us from starvin' to death. You wouldn't want your dear enemies dyin' on ya." 

At that moment, before more bickering could take place, Pietro arrived, arms loaded down with ice cream and ice cream accessories. "Hey, John, what's--" 

"Dear God, how many flavors did you get?!" John exclaimed with widened eyes. 

"I don't know, actually. They're for Lance and me, though, so nobody else gets any 'till we're done," Pietro explained as he set the large load into the shopping cart. He then looked up at the X-Men and said smoothly, "Oh, the X-Geeks are here. Don't you usually have somebody else do the shopping for you?" 

"Well, we told Professor X that we'd do this month's grocer--" Bobby started, but was hushed as a rather peeved Evan elbowed him in the side. 

"Hm. Hey, John, this is that new guy I was telling you about." 

"I know," John answered, smiling at Bobby and earning a confused look from the rest. 

"That's a freaky looking smile... You don't have the hots for him, do you?" Pietro asked quite loudly. 

"What?!" Flushed and flustered, John shook his head rapidly. "Come on, let's go get fruits and vegetables and all that other healthy stuff and-- yeah-- bye!" he said and quickly bolted from the scene. 

"Hey, wait up!" Pietro called, catching up to him easily. He observed the older boy for a moment, noting the agitated expression on his face, the way his knuckles turned white from clenching the handle of the cart a little too hard, then said in a taunting voice, "You liiiike him, don't you?" 

"Of course not! I'm straight; you know that, Wanda knows that, Lance knows that-- everybody knows that I'm straight!" 

"You _liiiike_ him." 

"I 'liiiike' your sister, jackass," John muttered as he pushed Pietro somewhat playfully. 

"Then why'd you run away when I asked if you had the hots for that loser Bobby?" Pietro challenged with a smirk. 

"Because being around those soddin' X-Freaks for too long makes me feel ill. End of discussion." 

"I didn't know you swung that way." 

"I _don't!_ End. Of. Discussion." 

Pietro tried to stifle a laugh as they continued shopping, earning an angry look from his companion. He forced the giggles away and decided that it was best for his safety if he didn't look at John for the rest of their little shopping trip. It'd probably tempt him to say things that were liable to get him injured (assuming, of course, that John could catch him). 

And with that, the remainder of their time in the grocery store was relatively peaceful. What concerned Pietro now was the possibility of awkwardness and other bad feelings when it came time to pick Wanda up from school. [A/N: Okay, I hate throwing notes in the middle of my stories, but I just gotta say this: I just want this scene to end right now but I don't know how to do it, damn it! So deal with this crappy scene... uh... ending!! Uh... read on.] 

* * * * * 

Pietro felt a little uncomfortable as he walked into the gym of Bayville High School to watch the end of cheerleading practice. Ever since he had "come out of the closet", the girls had been all over him (much to Lance's dismay). They felt that because he was pretty much openly gay, he was the guy to go to for "girl talk" and stuff like that. He was almost always getting an offer to go clothes shopping, or to the movies, or out for lunch, and he was constantly turning them down (though, every once in a while, he would take a girl up on the offer just to annoy Lance). Apparently, girls welcomed his being gay, whereas most of the jock populace of Bayville pretty much treated him like a social leper for fear that he would harbor a crush on them or something. Today, though, he wasn't in the mood to be attacked by giddy girls. 

Still, as uncomfortable as he felt, he sat on the bleachers and watched his sister and her new friends fling their pompoms around and spout out cheers. Having convinced John to wait in the jeep with the food, he found himself very quickly growing bored. Of course, he knew he couldn't keep poking fun at the guy for acting so neurotic about the Bobby situation. After all, he had no idea if John had a lighter on him or not, and he certainly didn't want to get scorched by an angry pyromaniac. 

"Pietro!" Wanda exclaimed, tossing her pompoms at her brother to get his attention. 

"Huh?" 

"Practice just ended, and you were just kind of sitting there with a blank look on your face instead of jumping up and running for the exit as you usually do." 

"Ohh, sorry," he apologized with a small laugh. 

"Hey, Pietro! Cindy and I were wondering if you wanted to go--" one of the cheerleaders-- Kristy, was it?-- started, but he interrupted with: "No, sorry. I, uh, have to talk to my sister alone, if that's all right with you." 

"Sure!" she giggled, and she and her friends scampered away obediently. 

"What do you want to talk about, Pietro?" 

"Well, I don't have a lot of time, 'cause John's waiting in the Wrangler--" 

"Oh, he's here?! Why's he waiting outside, then?" 

"Because I told him to. Listen, Wanda, you _have_ to tell him about--" 

"No," she answered flatly. 

"_No?!_ How the hell can you _not_ tell him?!" 

"It's very easy, brother. I don't utter one word about the situation and we all live happily ever after. Nobody's telling him anything." 

"Somebody has to. You can't just carry on an affair with _Daniels_ and not tell John anything about it!" 

"Why not?" she challenged, growing a little upset. "Who knows how many girls he slept with while away. Besides, what was I supposed to do while he was gone? Wait around like a lovesick puppy like you did for Lance? I have to go out and do things, you know!" 

"And now he's back, so you either break it off with him, or break it off with Daniels, but don't play around with _both_ of them. It's not fair to either of them-- not that I care what's fair for Daniels..." 

"Well, _Evan_ doesn't seem to mind that I'm going out with Johnny while screwing him." 

"Well, I do. And so does Todd. You're just lucky it hasn't spread past us yet. I don't know how long I can keep it a secret from Lance, though, and you _know_ Lance will tell him." 

Wanda crossed her arms over her chest and huffed softly. "I know," she confirmed with some disappointment and irritation. "Just give me some more time to decide who I want to be with, okay?" 

"Fine. Hey, Wanda, can I ask you something?" 

She nodded as she picked up her pompoms and backpack, then turned to him. "What do you want to know?" 

"Why Evan, of all people? Why couldn't you have picked, oh, I don't know, that Cajun or something. He's cute. Why'd you pick _Evan Daniels_ to cheat on your boyfriend with? I would think of that as a step down, not an improvement." 

"Johnny's too-- too passionate! Sometimes, romance and passion gets old and I want a plain, normal-- well, as close to normal as I can get-- boyfriend," Wanda explained, feeling slightly embarrassed. 

"So... you're cheating on your passionate, romantic boyfriend because you want a boring, bad in bed guy?" 

"I didn't say Evan was bad in bed," Wanda countered as she put on her coat. 

"I know. I'm just assuming he is. Let me at least _pretend_ that he is, Wanda, I don't want to hear about how his performance in bed really is. Anyway, I think you need to get your head checked, sis. You want _boredom_?!" 

"I want something different and new; Evan happens to be that. Even if different and new also means dull and kind of stupid... He has a good body, at least!" 

"So you don't really like Evan? Please tell me you don't really like Evan." 

"Well--" 

"Nevermind. That 'well' was enough for me. I _don't_ want to hear any more." 

"Come on, Pietro, let's just drop this. You've been nagging me for two weeks now about the situation." 

"Well, somebody has to," Pietro mumbled as they headed out the gym. "I really wouldn't feel bad now if John and Iceboy started some little fling," he added under his breath so she couldn't hear him. He then giggled to himself, picturing how amusing it would be to see St. John "I'm not gay, I'm not gay!" Allerdyce with Bobby "Well, I can't think of a nickname to go here" Drake. Kissing, taking a stroll through the park hand-in-hand, setting the X-Mansion on fire... Okay, Bobby probably wouldn't approve of John doing that last part, but hey, this was Pietro's fantasy, so he could think of anything he damn well wanted to! 

"Pietro? What's so funny?" Wanda questioned as they walked to the Wrangler and the very bored John. 

"Nothing. Funny mental image," Pietro replied, then looked at John and laughed even more. 

"What is it this time?! This better not be about that X-Man!" John snapped, then looked at Wanda and hopped out of the jeep to greet her. "Hey, luv," he smiled, pulling Wanda into a hug that was quickly followed up with a long kiss that left Pietro impatiently tapping his feet. 

"Come on, people, the ice cream's gonna melt before we get home!" Pietro complained loudly, trying to get their attention. 

"In this sub-zero temperature? Yeah, right," Wanda scoffed, but complied to Pietro's whining by getting into the vehicle. 

Pietro sighed and got into the back seat, next to the groceries. The two in front spent the car ride home cooing syrupy sweet "couply" phrases to each other. Sometimes-- well, not sometimes; it was more than sometimes-- Pietro found himself very thankful that he and Lance didn't speak such sickeningly saccharine words to each other. Oh well, he could tolerate their happiness without throwing up as long as neither one of them used the word "pooky". 

Actually, he found himself a little disappointed with Wanda from listening to their displays of affection. It really was kind of stupid, the entire situation. How could she so effortlessly go from uttering the same loving words to Evan one minute, and then to John in the next? He knew that Wanda felt guilty about the situation with Daniels and Allerdyce, but the act she put on while around the others made him wonder things he knew he shouldn't be thinking. 

_What if Lance has been cheating on me and I have no idea? Maybe I should ask John-- but, then, he might not say anything. Hell, Lance could be cheating on me with _John_ for all I know! Maybe I could slip the question to Freddy ever so casually over food some time... He'd probably accidentally let me in on some info about Lance's hopefully stagnant love-life over the past months. _

I hope Lance doesn't think I'm getting "old"... Maybe I should try something different and exciting today. Hm, I still have that stuff from when Todd teased me into going into that store... Yeah. With that and an ultra-seductive attitude, Lance'll definitely be getting something new and exciting! 

Stupid Lance. How dare he possibly cheat on me! Of all the nerve-- wait a minute... This is only hypothetical cheating, so why am I getting so worked up?! I want some ice cream. Hm. How many flavors did I get? I wonder if I could set John up with Bobby without having Wanda or the X-Geeks kill me... Of course, Lance might kill me if I try, and if he doesn't, John might. 

But it'd be so cute! he squealed mentally, then stopped himself. Pietro Maximoff did not think of things other than Lance (_Especially when he has that little confused look on his face. Ah, Lance..._) as "cute", and Pietro Maximoff certainly did not "squeal"-- whether mentally or vocally! Squeak, possibly, but never squeal. 

The car came to a stop in the driveway, and John got out to grab some bags, pausing as he noticed the odd, somewhat evil grin on Pietro's face. 

"What are you grinnin' about now?" he asked in a slightly wary voice. 

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Pietro answered slyly. He then looked at his watch and said, "You think Lance'll be up yet?" 

"I don't know. Maybe. Why?" 

"I have some big plans for him." 

* * * * *

A/N: Pointlessness!! Woohoo!! Well, like I said, my insane muse was demanding some... stuff... so, the result was the grocery store scene. Hell, I never paid too much attention to Iceman before, so I have NO IDEA if I got his character down correctly (like I said in Chapter 2, I think, he wasn't supposed to have a big role at all, but now he does because of my dumbass muse). *shrug* Of course, then again, Pyro's my favorite character and even he's not really in character in this story (or is he? I don't have any pre-Legacy issues of him [but I will find some and no one can stop me!!!], and I know the virus affected his personality and made him go a little coo-coo at times >.<), soooo, blah! :D Hm, I'm still not sure where I'm going to take the Johnny/Bobby/Wanda/Evan subplot... oh well! It shouldn't have any effect on the main events of the story! 

Anyway, I apologize for the lack of Lance and the rest of the BH and the excessive Pyro in this chapter... I'm still feeling a little miffed and vindictive about a certain issue of "Cable" (yeah, yeah, kinda dumb of me since that certain evil issue came out some months ago... DAMN AVALANCHE!! He was being so freaking stupid and didn't even react at all to-- uh... anyway!) and so I... uh... get my revenge by putting St. John in as many scenes as possible? O.o;; Erm, the next chapter's going to be chock-full of Lance/Pietro fluff, and I think Todd's going to get more scenes in some future chapter (if not Chap 4, then 5), so... yeah. Chapter 4's almost done, and it's rather... disturbing :D I think. Maybe. Okay, it doesn't disturb me, but... ah heck, I'll shut up now! 


	4. Fishnets, Ice Cream, and Pietro oh, my!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: *sigh* You wanna know how long this chapter took me to write? Well, I started it right before I posted Chapter 3. In fact, I was about halfway done with it when I posted Chap3. Somehow, SOMEHOW, this thing managed to take me a little over a month to finish and I don't know why! It's not long. It's not brilliant. It's just... here. Oh well! By the way, it may seem like there's no plot yet (as in, all the really bad crap mentioned in Chapter 1), but that's because the plot-- well, it was supposed to be introduced in Chapter 5 (this is gonna be longer than "Slushies" if you haven't guessed by now), but here's what happened: At first, I wasn't too sure about pairing Bobby and Johnny together. That is, until I got the reviews for Chapter 3 and spoke more with a friend who seems to love the idea. :D So, in order for them to get together, I have to settle all of the Wanda crap and get the two boys bonded first, and that's probably gonna take most of Chapter 5 to do. BUT THERE IS A PLOT TO THIS STORY! TRUST ME! It's just taking me forever to get to, that's all >.<

So, without further ado, here's yet another filler chapter (I promise Chap5 will have the beginnings of the freakin' plot >.<). Un-betaread because... well, come on, I've been working on this thing for a month! I don't want to have to look at it any more! 

**Chapter 4: Fishnets, Ice Cream, and Pietro-- oh, my!**

_Whoever said that cleanliness was next to godliness was right._ Lance felt a surge of contentment rush through him as he stepped out of the shower, totally relaxed and wonderfully clean for the first time in months. It wasn't that he didn't bathe while away-- he did; daily (well, almost daily; as much as he could). However, using _real_ shampoo and _real_ soap in one's own home made him feel infinitely cleaner than he did in those dingy little motel showers with the plastic soap and single-serving generic shampoo that he sometimes had to fight with the others for. Plus, with everybody but Todd and Freddy gone, he was finally able to take as long as he wanted to without having an irate St. John (or one of the other Brotherhood members they picked up who actually cared about hygiene) yell at him for hogging the hot water. 

With his shower and rest out of the way, there was one more thing Lance needed to achieve a state of perfect bliss: sex-- with Pietro, preferably, but he wasn't exactly feeling picky at the moment, considering that he had just been through five terrible months of celibacy. The worst thing about his sex-free time was that he was almost constantly hit on while away and between missions, which resulted in major sexual tension and lingering disappointment every time he told a girl that he "wasn't interested", was "seeing somebody", and-- his personal favorite-- "I'm here, I'm queer, and I'm in love with a hyperactive high school student whose heart beats about as fast as-- if not faster than-- a hummingbird's!" That last one usually sent the girls running. 

But now he was back. And he was clean. And his hair smelled like-- raspberries? He assumed that it was Wanda's shampoo he had just used, but then... well, Pietro always did like the scent of fruit. 

_Oh well. Fruit's nice. Fruit's very nice,_ Lance told himself as he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked through the bathroom to his adjoined bedroom; he opened his door and peered down the hall. There was some clatter going on downstairs, which led to the assumption that the guys had just gotten back from grocery shopping. _Freddy's probably--_

"Freddy! That was tonight's dinner! Now what are we supposed to eat, ya big lummox?!" 

"I can make something! I'm sure you boys would enjoy a nice home-cooked meal for a change!" 

"Yeah, and you'd probably throw some arsenic in it." 

"Hey, don't talk to Amy like that!" 

"She's e-- oh, nevermind! Oh, and don't touch _any_ of the ice cream or Pietro'll kill you or somethin'." 

"But, what about the--" 

"And the whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, cherries, caramel-- Wow! How many things did that kid get?" 

Yep. Freddy had definitely found his way to the new food, and it sounded like John was about to have a coronary. 

_I wonder where Pietro is... Not to mention Wanda and Todd--_ usually one of them were around to supervise the absolute chaos that was bringing the groceries in. 

"Yo, lookit all the ice cream! Wow, we finally got some decent food!" 

Ah, there was Todd. 

"The ice cream's off limits to all of you, so leave it alone! You can have it after I'm done." 

And there was Pietro. _Ahh, Pietro... Pietro, Pietro, Pietro!_ he thought rather sappily (not to mention giddily). Lance was about to run downstairs before he realized that it probably wasn't the best idea, considering his current lack of clothing. 

"Hey, man, why do you have that on?" 

"And what's with the shoes?" 

"Nothing, nothing! Just-- uh-- is Lance up?" 

"Yeah, he's been in the shower for like an hour, yo. He should be out now." 

_Eep._ Despite the fact that Pietro had seen him in his birthday suit many times before, Lance felt that he should probably dress up at least a little bit for his boyfriend, rather than just jump straight to the sex. He may not've been the most romantic guy in the world, but sometimes a situation called for a little bit of precise seduction rather than raunchy fun. So, without further thought, he shut his door, threw on a pair of boxer shorts, and attempted to very quickly dry his hair with the towel just as some rapid knocking interrupted his "dressing up". 

"Ah-- uh-- yeah?" he called. 

"Lance? Can I see you for a moment?" Pietro asked pleasantly from the other side of the door. The sheer sweetness in his voice would've been cause for suspicion, had Lance been in a less horny mindset at the moment. 

He took a quick glance at himself in the mirror and figured he was decent and dressed up enough for his boyfriend's eyes. Shrugging to himself, he opened the door and... "_Aah!_" 

He suddenly found himself in bed, on his back, and struggling to sit up and get a better look at Pietro. Well, something was definitely different about the other boy. It could be that he was clad in a bathrobe that was concealing all but his legs, which were-- _Pietro's wearing fishnets. Oh, my God, he's wearing fishnets._

And that wasn't all. Besides the fishnets and the black stilettos (which made Lance wonder just how the boy crammed his feet into the extremely uncomfortable looking shoes), he had this look on his face that both aroused and frightened Lance. 

After many _Oh, God!_s and _Fishnets?!_s, Lance came to the conclusion that his boyfriend-- as cute as he was-- was insane and needed help. 

"Hey, lover," Pietro purred, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

"You're-- you-- crazy! Nuts!" 

"Huh?" Pietro blinked a few times and briefly wondered if Lance had some odd form of Tourette's Syndrome, then dropped the robe, revealing a rather kinky ensemble made of white satin, or silk, or something (Lance wasn't too sure because he wasn't really a scholar when it came to lingerie). "Like what you see?" 

_Man, he's definitely crazy or on drugs-- well, it is kinda cute... and the fishnets make his legs look even more sexy... but what the hell happened to plain ol' jeans wearing Pietro?! I _like_ plain ol' jeans wearing Pietro! Okay, creepy cross-dressed Pietro's not so bad, but... well, the 'nets can go. And the stilettos, and the lingerie. Yesss... that'd be nice._

"Hellooo? Aw, man, don't tell me I did this for nothing!" 

"No, no, I like what I see. I like, I like!" Lance said quickly before Pietro could get huffy. "It's just.. different..." 

"Duh! It's supposed to be different so you don't cheat on me!" Pietro snapped, putting his hands on his hips, which made for a rather odd, prissy looking pose. 

"Cheat on-- where'd you get that idea?" the now clueless-- though somewhat turned on-- Lance asked. 

"Oh, nevermind. Well, do you want this or not?" the oddly dressed boy demanded impatiently. 

Lance chuckled and got up from the bed. "Of course I want you, stupid." _Okay, screw precise seduction. I think this is enough. Want Pietro NOW!_

Pietro's previously annoyed expression melted into a smile, which then changed into a suggestive "Come and get it" smirk. He stumbled towards Lance awkwardly, not yet used to the heels, and then tripped and fell ungracefully into his boyfriend's arms. "Gah! Now help me out of these damn things before I fall and break my leg." 

* * * * * 

"They've been up there a while..." Todd noted, staring up at the ceiling as if half expecting it to grace him with the knowledge of what the two boys were doing upstairs. Nevertheless, the ceiling remained stoically silent. 

John poked sullenly at his plate, wondering if (and when) the food was going to suddenly explode or come to life and eat him. When his suspicions were settled, he gave Todd a jaded glance and said flatly, "What do you _think_ they're doing? 'Course it's gonna take 'em a while." 

"What's the matter, Johnny? You're not touching your dinner, and you're already thin as a rail. Don't you _like_ chicken parmigiana?" Amy asked in an appallingly concerned voice that resulted in John tightening his grip on his fork and stabbing it into the chicken before him-- ever so subtlely-- pretending that the deceased and seasoned bird was Amy. 

"No, I don't like chicken-whatever-this-is. I'm... uh... a vegetarian! Meat is bad! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!" A rather noisy thump emitted from upstairs. "Oh, knock it off, you two!" he shouted up at the ceiling. 

"Oh, Laaaaaance!" Pietro retorted in a loud, lusty moan, which was followed by giddy snickering. 

"It's disturbing to hear my brother say that, even if he is only joking," Wanda muttered after Pietro's obnoxious giggling settled. She poked at her own food for a bit, then resumed eating as an uncomfortable silence settled in the kitchen. "Um... so..." she started awkwardly in an attempt to relieve the tension in the room. "How have you been, Freddy?" 

"Good," the large mutant grunted out between mouthfuls of food. 

"Uh huh... And you, Todd? How was your day?" 

"Eh, so-so," the boy shrugged, obviously not in the mood to elaborate on the exciting events of his life. 

"I see... Oh, come on, people, don't any of you lead interesting lives?!" Wanda exclaimed with exasperation before reddening as she realized how snooty that may have sounded. "Umm... Johnny, what about you? Pietro mentioned something about X-Men and the grocery store--" 

"It was nothin'," he cut in nervously, laughing a bit in an effort to appear calm and relaxed. "Nothin' at all. We just had a little run-in in the cereal aisle and that lousy wanker Daniels threatened to--" He was interrupted suddenly by Wanda choking on her dinner and coughing abruptly to clear her throat of the remnants of the near-fatal chicken. "You okay, sweet? I _knew_ there was something up with that chicken!" 

"Yeah, fine, never better," she croaked, smiling warily before taking a large sip from her drink. _He doesn't know, does he? He couldn't! ...unless Pietro or Evan mentioned something to him. Well, I know Pietro hasn't said anything... I'd better tell Evan to keep his mouth shut--_

"Wanda? You sure you're okay? You seem kind of spaced out right now..." 

"No more than you usually are, Allerdyce," she retorted with a small smile. "Actually, you seem to be in a pretty lousy mood. Something's wrong." 

"I just have a lot on my mind 's all," he mumbled, shrugging. "And you're changing the subject, but hey, if there's something you don't want to tell me; fine. I'm okay with it." 

"There's nothing! I mean, there's... soooo, Amy, where'd you learn to cook? This chicken is absolutely fabulous!" Wanda exclaimed cheerfully, abruptly changing the subject once more. She ignored the contemptuous scoff from her boyfriend and continued speaking. "No wonder you and Freddy are so happy together. You like to cook, he likes to eat, it's like one happy circle of... food!" _Well, how's _that_ for ditzy? I guess I've been hanging around my new "friends" too much._

"If that was the way things worked, then he'd be just as happy with Aunt Jemima," John grinned, lightening up at the chance to mock both Fred _and_ his tiny, hellspawn girlfriend. 

"Or Uncle Ben," Todd added helpfully. 

"Or Betty Crocker," John supplied, then stopped grinning as he received a death glare from Wanda and a baffled look from Freddy. He caught the angry scowl from his girlfriend and figured the next, safest course of action was to simply keep his mouth shut and stare innocently down at his plate. 

"Uncle Ben? But I like girls," Fred said slowly. 

Amy shook her head and patted the Blob's arm almost comfortingly. "Don't dwell on it, Freddy. _They_ don't know what they're talking about," she said, tossing a haughty glance at Todd and John. 

Todd shrugged off the look and then stared up at the ceiling again, then mused, "They're takin' longer than usual, yo." 

"Yeah. Normally Lance would be comin' down the stairs by now saying 'That was the best four and a half seconds of my life!'," John added with a snicker, this time ignoring the daggers that Wanda glared at him. 

Suddenly, a gust of wind and a blur that could only be Pietro rushed through the kitchen, snatched some things from the freezer, and zipped back out of the room. 

"He's got the ice cream!" Freddy griped as realization dawned on him. 

"The horror!" 

"Shaddup, Aussie!" 

"Yo, I think he streaked us!" 

* * * * * 

Lance was in Heaven. Heaven happened to be a nearly empty, long uninhabited bedroom with his clothes strewn about the floor waiting to be put away after months of being trapped in travel bags. What was in the room didn't matter to Lance, though, since Heaven also provided very nice beds complete with a adorable, hyperactive mutant who had just finished "rocking his world" and was now treating him to a nice, soothing back rub. And-- big plusses here-- they had ice cream! Wonderful, tasty ice cream and ice cream accessories... 

So, here was Lance on the very nice bed, lying on his stomach, and staring at a container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream as Pietro, clad only in his robe (which was considerably more clothing than Lance had on), gave him the massage of a lifetime. _There's no way Heaven can feel this goood..._

A pleasant groan escaped his lips as slender, skilled fingers massaged the muscles around his shoulders. "Mmm... ahhh... _ow!_" 

"Wow, you're really tense here," Pietro noted with an amused grin as he continued. "Stress?" 

Lance shrugged as much as he could, and responded with: "Tension. From not having you around for months." 

"Sap." 

"Does my sappiness get me anything?" 

"Well," Pietro murmured, trying to sound thoughtful. "You already have _me_, I don't know what more you would want." 

"How about a threesome-- _ow!_ You did that on purpose!" 

"Damn right I did! Jerk," he snapped, then climbed off of Lance to sit in his own sullen party of one at the foot of the bed. 

"Jerk? What'd I say?" Lance asked, sitting up. A characteristic expression of confusion-- one all to familiar, since Pietro had a tendency to baffle Lance without fail every time they got into these one-sided arguments-- crossed Lance's face as he thought about what imaginary offense he could've committed _this_ time. 

"Threesome," Pietro grumbled in reply. "How could you suggest such a thing?!" 

"What's wrong with suggesting? I was just kidding!" 

"In suggesting a threesome, you're implying that you want to have sex with another person! That means I'm getting boring and can't hold your interest anymore, notEvenIfIGetYouIceCreamAndDressUpRealNiceAndStuff!" 

Lance took a second to decipher Pietro-speak, and only found himself even more confused. "Why do you think you're getting boring?" 

"Because Wanda-- I mean... because we've been going out for almost two years now, and you've been away most of the time, sooo... IThoughtYouMight'veGottenTiredOfMe and foundSomeUnbearablyOvercompensated X-Man toSleepWith." 

"Wait, what does this have to do with your sister and the X-Men?" Lance questioned, inching closer to Pietro. 

"Nothing! I'm just being stupid, I guess." Pietro chuckled softly, looking down at a tub of ice-cream seemingly newfound interest. "Self-consciousness and all that crap." 

"Self-conscious? _You?_ Yeah, right. Pietro, I haven't slept with _anybody_ while I was away. Well, I had to share a bed with Johnny once, but that was because we ran out of space and it was a choice between him and Freddy, but we didn't do anything, and he stole the sheets and eventually kicked me onto the floor-- which he claimed was an accident, but I doubt it--, so that doesn't count," Lance clarified quickly, trying to fill in every little detail before Pietro's fast-paced mind could find anything wrong with his explanation of the scenario. He snaked his arm around Pietro's torso, hoping to catch him off guard, and pulled the boy closer to him. He then chose the next, most logical course of action to pull Pietro out of his weird mood: cuddling. 

"Stupid you. Why do you have to be so damn lovable?!" Pietro cursed, melting-- not literally, of course-- at Lance's touch and forgetting about the slowly liquefying ice cream. "Okay, fine, for imagination's sake, let's just say that I do agree to a threesome. Who would the third person be?" 

"Hmm..." Lance pondered for a moment, running his fingers through Pietro's disheveled hair thoughtfully. "Summers." 

"Ew. No way! I don't even want to _think_ about how that guy would be in bed. Not that he'd be too bad... just overbearing and--" 

"You're thinking about it," Lance teased, earning a cherry being flung at his face in return. "Wagner." 

"_Gross!_ Fur! That'd be like doing your pet dog or something... except that we don't have one... I want a puppy!" 

"So you can--" Another cherry was promptly thrown at him, and he chuckled despite the fact that the syrup the cherries had been stored in probably just stained his bedsheets. _Oh well, it's not like we didn't screw them up enough already..._ "Okay, okay, sorry," he laughed. "What about Dan-- ow! Okay, nevermind! Todd." 

"You actually think of _him_ that way?! It's like... incest! I'm very ashamed of you, Lance." 

"Incest? I guess that takes Johnny out of the picture, too. So, um... what's his name... Gambit?" 

There was a brief pause. For a second, Lance feared that the contents of the jar were about to be emptied on him, but-- joy of joys!-- Pietro smiled and nodded energetically. 

"Okay. He's cute. I'd do him." 

"Not cuter than me, I hope." 

"Oh, nothing can beat your cuteness, Lance!" Pietro cooed sarcastically as he scooped a spoonful of ice cream out and held it out for Lance to eat. "Who needs a puppy when I have you around?" 

"Exactly," Lance said around the spoon before taking a quick glance around the room. Other containers of ice cream-- the small kind, luckily; he wasn't too sure what he'd do if Pietro had run out and bought a ton of those large tubs of ice cream-- littered the ground, along with a canister of whipped cream, another jar of cherries, and small shakers containing sprinkles. And then there were Pietro's (well, maybe not _Pietro's_, but the speed demon had been wearing them) stilettos and fishnets, and, somewhere else along the floor, the remainder of his own outfit was lying abandoned. _Hm, I've been home about four hours, and already my room's a pit._ "Uh... are we really going to eat _all_ of that? Why'd you get so much?" 

"Well, I didn't remember what flavor you liked best, so I went out and stocked up on the best that Bluebell, Ben, and Jerry had to offer. We can feed the rest to Freddy and the others if it hasn't turned into soup by then." 

"Freddy won't care if it's soup," Lance murmured, pulling a cherry out of the jar, only to have it skillfully plucked from his fingers by Pietro. "Heeey." 

"You know, while you were doing that weird thing to my neck-- before, the sex, that is. When you were trying weird new things during foreplay-- I was thinking about all of our roles in the family," Pietro said contemplatively as he munched on Lance's cherry. 

_The randomness that is Pietro._ Lance was by now used to Pietro's sporadic comments and musings, so the fact that Pietro was thinking about other things during foreplay really didn't surprise him. After all, Pietro's body did do things much faster than Lance's own, so foreplay was more for Lance's benefit than Pietro's. Still, despite his lack of surprise, it still bothered him a bit that Pietro was off in Lala Land while Lance was attempting to be a good lover. "You were thinking about the Brotherhood during sex?" 

"Not during. Before," Pietro clarified pointedly. "You see, you're kind of like the bossy, fussy mother--" 

"Gee, thanks," Lance muttered dryly. 

"You're welcome," Pietro beamed, then continued with his little scenario. "Freddy would be like the deadbeat dad-- you know, sits around watching TV and eating snacks all the time. Todd would be the kid, because he's the youngest and all... Wanda would be the older daughter who acts fussy and motherly when the mom-- you-- is not around. And John... uh, he'd be the older daughter's slacker boyfriend who hangs out here all the time and practically lives here." 

"What about you?" _This is the stuff he thinks about while I'm making love to him?!_

"I would be your lesbian lover!" 

Lance sputtered and nearly swallowed his spoon. "What?!" _Pietro the lesbian. Well, there's a bizarre thought._ "So in your imaginary world, I'm married to Freddy--" Lance shuddered at the concept-- "Todd and Wanda are Freddy and my kids, John would be the freeloading boyfriend, and you would be a... lesbian." 

"Yup!" Pietro affirmed, nodding exuberantly, and then he giggled and ate another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream. 

_Wait a minute. Giggled? Pietro... giggle..._ A horrible realization suddenly dawned on Lance. _Oh no._ "Pietro, give me the ice cream." 

The other boy looked at Lance suspiciously and tightened his grip on the container. "Why?" 

"Sugar. You. Too much. Bad." 

"Yeah, right, Tarzan. Yeesh, of all the people in the world, I just _had_ to get stuck with the guy who randomly regresses to caveman-speak." 

"Pietro, hand it over," Lance insisted firmly, taking hold of that which Pietro seemed to protect rather stubbornly. 

"No! Get your own! It's mine now, you hear?! _Mine!_" 

_Of all the people in the world, I just had to hook up with the guy who goes insane at the slightest taste of sugar,_ Lance groaned mentally. Then, an idea struck his usually barren mind, and he leaned over the side of the bed, hand grasping for-- got it! Lance whisked the whipped cream canister off the ground and aimed it at Pietro. "Give. Me. The. Ice. Cream." 

"You wouldn't." 

"I would." 

Pietro looked down at the sugary contents he was guarding so dearly, then back at his whipped cream wielding boyfriend who looked alarmingly dangerous all of a sudden... _I could very easily dodge if he tries-- but he wouldn't! He couldn't!! Lance would never, ever do something like that to lovable little me!_ Pietro paused, continuing to stare down the threatening mutant. _Maybe he would. No. He wouldn't. He loves me too much and he knows the ice cream's not worth it!_

  
  
_I can't believe I'm going to do this,_ Lance lamented to himself. _I can't. Ah hell, he'll dodge it anyway._ Bracing himself for a dreadful aftermath, he aimed the whipped cream and Pietro and promptly shot the fluffy contents at the hyperactive boy. 

Pietro didn't dodge. 

Lance stared in shock for a moment, his hand going limp and dropping the canister. _He didn't dodge. He didn't dodge. Why the hell didn't he dodge?! Shit. He's gonna kill me. I'm a dead man. Oooh, I'm so dead._

  
  
Pietro, meanwhile, blinked rapidly, whipped cream clinging to his eyelashes. _Why didn't I move?_ he asked himself as he wiped the offending fluff from his face. 

_Because you thought he wasn't gonna do it, idiot,_ came his own sardonic reply. 

_Oh, shut up, you. _

You know, in saying that, you're essentially-- 

Shut. Up. Oh, Lance is so dead. 

"Um... Pietro? I love you," Lance said in a desperate attempt to save himself. 

Pietro stared silently at his soon-to-be-doomed boyfriend, a sort of odd calmness about him. Lance watched in dread as an evil, malicious smile suddenly graced the speedster's face. 

"Sweet peak freens!" 

* * * * * 

At the sound of Lance's bizarre exclamation, the fiery little dragon projecting out of the lighter abruptly faded into oblivion as a distracted St. John looked up from his work. 

"What the bloody 'ell was that?" 

"Sounded like Lance," Todd answered indifferently, not taking his eyes off of his chemistry homework. _Ahh, it's about time I heard one of Lance's random outbursts,_ Todd mused thoughtfully. _Things finally sound normal again-- well, as normal as this freakish place can be..._

"Well, yeah, obviously that was Lance, but why would he say 'sweet peak freens'? What does that even _mean?_" 

"I hate moles," Todd murmured bitterly, then glanced at John somewhat sheepishly. "I mean, that's not what it means; I just hate moles. Molarity. Molality. Six point oh-two times ten to the twenty-third. I'm gonna go crazy!" 

"Yech. Chemistry. I'm so glad I burned all of my notes when I passed." 

"And was this before or _after_ you got your powers, firefly?" another voice inquired, causing the other two to jump and look in the speedsters' direction. 

"_Before_, Speedy. Back in the day when I had to use matches in the harsh Australian outback and fight dingoes and stuff," he drawled sarcastically. "Oh! By the way, what does 'sweet peak freens' mean?" 

"I don't know," Pietro shrugged, "but Lance sure looked cute when he said it. So, what're you boys doing? I need something to entertain me while he's in the shower washing off whipped cream from some hard-to-reach places..." 

"Whaaa?" 

"I'll tell you when you're older," Pietro said hastily. 

"I'm old enough to know!" Todd snapped. "You guys still treat me like a little kid; I'm seventeen, yo! But, just 'cause I'm old enough, it doesn't mean that I _want_ to know what you guys did... I just... wanted to clarify that I'm not a little kid anymore, so... carry on." Todd blinked at his own statement, obviously confused by what he had just said. 

Apparently, the scrawny teen wasn't the only one confused by the statement. After giving Todd a funny look, St. John turned to Pietro. "Well, I wanna know what you two did that was so... bizarre that Lance had to shout 'sweet peak freens!'. I'm older than you are, Pietro," John countered, knowing full-well that he'd regret his curiosity if Pietro chose to elaborate. 

"But, um... Lance is older than you are, so there," Pietro retorted with a hint of triumph in his voice. He took a seat between Todd and John, then glanced down at the sort-of-amphibian's homework. "That answer's wrong," he said casually, as if correcting someone's homework was a part of everyday conversation. 

"I don't care anymore," Todd groaned despairingly as he brought his head down against his textbook with a _thud!_. "Right now the mental picture in my head is mercilessly slaughtering my brain cells." 

"Suit yourself," Pietro shrugged, then turned to John. "I guess there's only you to annoy since Todd's busy waiting for his brain to liquefy, or something. What're you doing with that lighter?" 

"Just practicing makin' things. I'm bored outta my mind." 

"Ohhh. Can you make people yet?" 

"Yeah, sure, piece of cake." 

"Can you make-- oh, I don't know-- Bobby?" Pietro asked with a mischievous grin. 

John looked at Pietro with some irritation and suspicion, then said in a very matter-of-fact voice, "Of course not. And why would I want to?" 

"Because you _liiike_ him. You think he's _gorrrgeous_. You want to _kiiiss_ him-- oh, God, smack me if I ever talk like that again." 

"Gladly," Todd muttered. 

"I don't like him-- well, not in _that_ way, anyway, but I'm starting to think that _you_ do. You know, just because I smiled at the guy, it doesn't mean _anything_. I wouldn't mind gettin' to know him and all, but I don't want to _kiss_ him or anything." 

"You're in _den-iiiii-al_," Pietro responded in a singsong voice. 

"Am not!" 

"Oh yeah?" Pietro challenged. "Can you go rent a movie for me?" 

Caught off guard by the oh, so subtle topic change, John could only respond ever so intelligently with: "Huh?" _How is that going to prove that I like some stupid X-Man? Is this a trick? It has to be a trick. Well, I'll show him._ John forced a grin and said in the nicest, most congenial voice possible, "Sure. What do ya want?" 

"Well... I want 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'--" 

"Pietro, with how many times you've rented that movie, we might as well just buy the damn tape, yo," Todd said idly. 

"Shut up," John hissed. "That was gonna be his Christmas present! Now I have to actually think of somethin' creative!" 

"Good," Pietro grinned. "Anyway, I want that and 'Chocolat'. Mm. Johnny Depp. Oh... and get 'A Life Less Ordinary' for Lance. He's got this weird Ewan McGregor obsession now. Oh! And I want... um... no, I guess that's it." 

"Okay, fine. Todd, come with me." 

"Why? I gotta finish my-- ah, to hell with it. Can I drive?" 

"Sure," John said with an indifferent shrug, pocketing his lighter and standing up. He had yet to discover the dangers of being in a car with Todd Tolensky behind the wheel. 

"Uh, I'll be out in a sec. Gotta put my books away and all that," Todd murmured, and John shrugged again and walked outside. After he was gone, Todd turned to Pietro and said accusingly, "You're going to try and set him up with someone, aren't you?" 

"So what if I am?" Pietro retorted hotly, glaring at Todd defensively. 

"Wicked!" Todd exclaimed with a wide grin, causing Pietro to blink and drop the defensive attitude. "That means you'll finally stop trying to play matchmaker with me and that Rachel chick, right?" he asked excitedly. 

"I guess. This may take all of my energy, remarkable talent, good looks, and skill to accomplish," Pietro said thoughtfully. 

"Good, 'cause I _hate_ Rachel!" 

"Really?" 

"Really. She's about as bland as Jean Grey," Todd affirmed sincerely. 

"Wow. That's bad. Okay, I'll think of someone else for you," Pietro nodded. 

"What about Wanda?" 

"You're not getting my sister!" the speedster snapped. 

Todd rolled his eyes and said slowly and patiently: "No, I don't want her--" 

"What? You're too good for my sister?!" 

"_No!_ But she's still dating John, so why are you trying to hook him up with someone else?!" Todd exploded before Pietro could take further offense. "Plus, I don't _want_ you to find me a girl. I can do it myself, yo." 

"I thought you were cool with the idea," an obviously confused Pietro commented. "And you think the word 'yo' can help you get girls?!" [A/N: Well, I'd definitely find it endearing :D] 

"I am cool with the idea, but-- you-- she's your sister! And you're _gay!_ What do you know about picking up chicks?!" 

"So? She's with Evan now, remember? In fact, I'll bet she's with him as we speak! Did she go out to hang with her 'cheerleader friends'?" Pietro chose not to dignify Todd's last statement with an answer. 

"Yeah," Todd admitted. 

"There you have it. And I know plenty of things about girls, okay! And in any case, whether he's dating my sis or not, it'll be fun setting him up with who I have in mind... Now, go with John to Blockbuster; I think Lance is out of the shower now." 

Todd took note of the eerie, predatory glint in Pietro's eyes and obediently nodded, then rushed to the door hoping to escape the house and its insane inhabitants (well, Pietro and Lance. Freddy wasn't really _insane_ as much as he was gluttonous and violent. Besides, he was off with Amy somewhere in the house) 

"Oh, Laaaaance?" Pietro called playfully, running upstairs once more. He could almost see the dread in Lance's eyes as he ran to his room to play with his boyfriend some more. In fact, if he was an animal of some sort (_I'd be something cool and exotic, that's for sure. Like a... roadrunner or something._), he could probably _smell_ the dread coming from Lance. This then led Pietro to wonder what dread actually smelled like, which left him vulnerable to Lance, who took the opportunity to tackle the speed demon and exact his revenge. 

"_Ah!_ Lance! Holy--!" 

* * * * *

A/N: Pointless, wasn't it? Well, this chapter was to make up for the total lack of Lance/Pietro that ran rampant throughout the first three chapters. Sometimes I forget this story is about them and not Iceman and Pyro hooking up >.< Stupid me. XD Uhh, I'm not sure what to say about this chapter, since I don't even remember what I was thinking when I wrote it. Initially, I was gonna have Pietro tie Lance up and force him to watch drag queen movies (he was gonna force Pyro to get "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" XD), but as you can see, I changed it and left whatever he did to Lance up to your imagination. ^_~ 

Oh, btw, Avalanche actually does say "Sweet Peak Freens!" in the comics (don't remember which issue, and it doesn't matter because I don't have it), but I don't know what it means or why he said it (kinda like when Pyro says "Strewth!" No clue what that means, but I'm guessing it's not good, since he said it when his fire got blown back at him...). Uhh... yeah. If anyone has the ish where he says it or knows what it means, tell me! (as for Pietro's "Miss Congeniality" moment... uh... it's been a while since I've seen the movie, and I never even finished watching it, so I don't know if the quotie thing is right or not. ^^) 

Oh, and speaking of Avalanche, he ticked me off in the Season II commercial. Is he actually going to become "Irredeemable badguy"?!! AND WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THE PYRO RUMORS I KEEP HEARING?!!! They're starting to frustrate me, if you can't tell. :D I keep hearing that he's in, then he's out, then he's in, out, and I fucking hate Magma (because... well, long, pointless story). But I like Cannonball, Iceman, and Multiple Man (even if they are making poor Jamie 12), and Jubilee's all right, so I guess it's okay... (and I'm one of the few people who're glad that Gambit's not yet in the show. MWAHAHAAA!! I love him, but he's so freakin' overrated and he's already in everything, unlike Pyro who's even been gypped out of a meaningful death...) 

ANYWAY! I don't know when Chap5 will be up since I have school again and stuff. Then again, I tend to write much faster during the school year, so we'll see how it goes. :D 


	5. I Don't Wanna Have To Be Your Friend

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: Okay, before I forget, I'm gonna say this now. At the end of this chapter, there was an entire page of dialogue between Johnny and Pietro that explains allll of Johnny's motives behind his actions (the whole "screwing Wanda and acting semi-normal even after finding out that she was cheating on him" thingie, as well as something else he goes and does this chapter). However, I got mad and it was just so bleh blah bad that I'm not including it here. Soooo... yeah! 

Anywho, this is the mediocre crap that was Chapter 5... REVISED! Yes! I'm talking totally revised! There's a lot more... uh... meat in the chapter now! And pretty much everything from the scene where St. John storms out of the diner place with Bobby to the end of the chapter has been not only revised, but almost completely rewritten! Whee! Wow, it's been so long since I've written an authors' note that I don't really know what to put here. Just, um, read it and I really hope that the new and improved Chapter 5 isn't nearly as bad as its previous incarnation. 

**Chapter 5: I Don't Wanna Have To Be Your Friend**   
(REVISED!)

Ah, the video store. A perfect oppertunity for St. John to relax and _not_ have to worry about Pietro trying to get him to accidentally "out" himself as gay. Pffth, as if he even _was_ in the first place. The notion was simply illogical. Sure, that whole scene was great and all for Lance and Pietro, but for _St. John?_ The guy who got laid by multiple _CHICKS_ waaaay before Lance could get the guts to lose his own virginity? The guy who had a tendency to cheat on his girlfriends with other girls, and then cheat on those girls with yet more? 

_Of course not! I'm the biggest man-whore I know! Yep! I'm like... a total slut! Not gay! _

....okay, I'm being stupid. So what? 

"Yo, I found the flicks. Let's go," Todd said impatiently, thankfully interrupting John's calling himself a various synonyms for the word "skank". Unbeknownst to John, he had just spotted the X-Geeks doing what they did best: unwittingly popping up wherever the Brotherhood happened to be. 

"You don't want anything for yourself?" the blonde asked hopefully, though truthfully, he didn't really care about getting any other movies-- 

"Nah." 

"Um... well, I do." 

--he just wanted to hold off getting back in the car as long as possible. 

"Huh. Okay, whatever; I'll just wait by the check-out chick." 

"'kay," John answered absently, watching the younger teen saunter off, before turning and staring at the titles facing him. _Well, this is tough. All of these movies suck-- ah, wait, these're are 80's fantasy flicks. No wonder. Hey, wait! Since when do _I_ oppose movies featuring scantily clad chicks?! Hmm-- oh, holy God, it's--_ "'Labyrinth'!" 

His exclamation was accompanied by a brief giggle as he snatched the box and clutched it protectively to his chest, half-expecting some small, evil little child to come along and take the Bowie-endowed movie from him. _Wow, I haven't seen this since I was like ten or something! Yeah, Lance was sleeping over at my place, and we watched it... and then he hit me for renting it because he claimed that I knew about his fear of muppets..._

John glanced around more, looking for some other movie to grab-- something obscure that would take about an, oh, extra twenty minutes or so to find. Yeah, that sounded good. It would be enough time for his heart rate to slow down as he forgot about the lamp post he, Todd, and Todd's beaten old Corsica had almost become very intimate with. As the pyrokinetic scoured the shelves and attempted to waste more time, he remained blissfully unaware of the chilly hand that was about to descend upon his vulnerable, unsuspecting neck... 

"Aah!" 

"Jittery much?" 

"Wha-- oh, it's you! Hi." 

"No 'g'day'?" 

"Well, it's evenin'," John shrugged with a grin. "Can't very well say 'g'day' when it ain't daytime." 

"Point. I just wanted to hear you say it. Australian accents are so cute." 

"I could say the same about American ones. Sheesh," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your hands are _freezing_." 

"They don't call me 'Iceman' for nothing, y'know. So... you like 'Labyrinth'?" Bobby asked curiously, peering at the box in John's hand. 

"I think," he laughed. "I don't remember, really. Been a long time since I've seen it." He paused awkwardly, looking everywhere except at Bobby. Though he would never admit it (unless drunk), Pietro's words still stuck with him, nagging, taunting... giggling... "Um... what're you here for?" 

"Oh, Kurt wanted to get some action movie, and Kitty just had the urge to rent 'My Fair Lady' again. Hm. You'd think she'd learn something about speaking proper English from watching it, like, so many times, like, you know?" 

"The, like, rain in, like, Spain falls totally in, like, the plains!" St. John recited primly in a disturbingly accurate rendition of the valley girl's voice, twirling a lock of hair with his index finger. 

"Ah, man, don't do that! You sound _way_ too much like her." 

"You sayin' I have a girly voice?" the older boy teased. 

"Nah, you're just girly period, Johnny-boy," Bobby grinned. 

John blinked. "I am not-- am I? No, I'm not-- wait... Do I seem girly?!" he asked with all the self-consciousness of a teenager (who was almost out of his teens. _Just a few more months!_) whose best friend's boyfriend was bent on turning him gay or something. 

"_Shh!_ Keep your voices down," an irritated looking man wielding a copy of the theatrical bomb known as "Bounce" hissed at the two teens, who returned the command with blank stares. 

"This is a video store, not a library, mate." 

"This is a _video library_, son," the man retorted in a somewhat condescending voice, as if any little idiot would know that one was to keep silent when in a "video library". He frowned crossly at the boys, giving them the stern "I'm very disappointed in you" look. 

"Sorry, sir, we'll lower our voices to make your rental experience more enjoyable," Bobby replied in an equally patronizing voice as he took hold of John by the arm and leaned in close enough to get his lips next to the older boy's ear. "Want to take me up on that coffee offer? We can continue talking somewhere else. You know, outside the _library's_ vicinity," he said in an overdone whisper. 

John turned his head, finding himself nearly nose-to-nose with Bobby. Immediately, he found himself blushing like a dope from being so close to the other boy. "Ah, um... yeah, sure," he gulped nervously. "That'd be... neat..." 

"You know, for a writer, you're not very articulate," Bobby teased. "Your vocabulary leaves _much_ to be desired." 

"That's why I _write_, not orate-- how'd you know I'm a writer, anyway?" 

Bobby shrugged, still holding John's arm as he casually led him towards the exit. "After we ran into you and Pietro in the grocery store, Evan gave me this longwinded 'know thy enemy' speech. I now know more than I ever wanted to about you guys, including how you write 'sissy stories'. His words, not mine," he said with a grin. 

"Sissy stories, huh? Remind me to do something really, really bad to him sometime." 

"Can do," Bobby affirmed once they were free from the store. He let go of John's arm and looked around. "Well, now we're free. I don't see Tolensky rushing out to rescue you from my wicked clutches yet, so let's go." 

"Yeah. Hey, won't your X-Pals get suspicious when they find out you're gone?" 

"Nah. They barely register my existence half the time," Bobby shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and starting away from the Blockbuster video store. "So, you know where we can get some good coffee?" 

"Well, coffee's not really my thing, but... I do know a pretty decent place," John said, following Bobby with quicker steps. 

"Lead the way." 

The cafe wasn't too bad. Sure, it wasn't a place that Bobby would normally pick, more like one of those walk-right-past-and-check-your-reflection-in-the-window-while-doing-so places. But hey, the coffee was decent, the place was run by friendly middle-aged waitresses who obviously weren't used to too many customers (outside of the "regulars"), he got to have a front-row view of a giddy, caffeinated John, and-- best of all-- everything was cheap. 

"Coffee with 'the enemy'. I wonder what Scott would say if he saw this," he mused with a lopsided grin. "He'd probably have a coronary." 

"Well, if the enemy's always gonna be as handsome as you, I certainly wouldn't mind doin' this more often," St. John returned with a playful wink. 

_What?!! What did he just say?! He thinks I'm handsome! OhGodHappy!_

"I mean, not that you _are_ handsome-- well, you're not not handsome, either, but I-- Joking! God, I sound like an idiot," John attempted, somewhat abashed and stuttery. 

"I'm handsome, eh? Heh, maybe you should tell the girls at school that. They don't seem to see it yet." 

_That's right. Good Bobby. Pretend that you didn't ackowledge the compliment. Pretend that it didn't make you squishy inside. Pretend that you _don't_ want to grope this guy you just met... _

...but he's so cute! 

John smiled at Bobby sympathetically, inwardly cheering that Bobby didn't run away screaming from his vaguely homosexual outburst, and said, "Aw. Maybe they've just got bad taste." 

_Oooh, hehehe. I'm really liking this guy. Too bad I can't tell if he's flirting with me or not._

"I'll say," Bobby muttered, rolling his eyes. "Even Evan has a girlfriend. _Evan_. But, oh well. Girls are _highly_ overrated." 

_Huh? Did I just say what I thought I said? Well, I _do_ think girls are overrated, but... uh... maybe I shouldn't have said that to John-- Ah, crap! He's blinking and looking confused-- but utterly adorable... Bad Bobby!_

"They.. are....? Um... Yeah! I haven't even been able to be alone with my girlfriend since I got home! Not for one minute! But, I'm not missin' her! Nope, not at all, 'cause she's overrated and... Girls... Overrated," John finished with an affirmative nod. 

"Liar," Bobby teased with a wry smile as his mind boomed at him with arrows and big flashy letters: "HE'S STRAIGHT!". "I can tell with the way you're babbling that you miss her." 

"Maybe." St. John sighed and stared down at his coffee. Steamy. Fun. He tipped some cream into it, watching white swirl into rich brown. 

_Bet he thinks watching coffee and cream is more interesting than talking to me..._

John shifted his gaze slowly from the drink to Bobby. There was a look in the other boy's clear blue eyes that Bobby couldn't quite place... 

_Well, he's being pretty quiet. Oh, yay for awkwardness!_

"But enough about that! How long've you been in Bayville, anyway?" the blonde teen asked finally, probably as sick of the silence as Bobby was. 

"About a month. Er, this town's kinda... bleh. But mansion life's pretty cool! Big step up from a plain ol' house in the suburbs!" 

"Mansion, huh? Heh... fun. I've been living in hotels for the last five months-- crummy ones, at that, and the Brotherhood home's not much better; big step down from my old home..." John sighed softly, a wistful look creeping on his face. "I miss Australia sometimes... Well, more than sometimes, heh." 

_Ohh... shit. Well, I feel like a jerk. "Hehehe, I live in a mansion!" What the hell was I thinking?!_

A brief look of guilt crossed Bobby's face, and he said almost remorsefully, "Oh... I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. I blame it entirely on the boss-lady for not picking better places to stay. Well, I mean, they weren't so bad, but... she could've at least gotten us some more rooms! Sharing a bed with Lance while he's mumbling 'Mm, Pietro' and groping me isn't exactly my idea of a good time." 

_Argh! Straight straight straight!! But he's too cute to be straight! Not... making... sense... Shut down in five... four... three-- _

Don't you_ abandon me, brain!_

John paused as Bobby's mind raged at him, looking down at his coffee some more, then said hesitantly, "So, what's it like livin' with the X-Freaks?" 

_Eh?_ Bobby caught the uncertainty in John's voice and laughed. "Is this some elaborate plan coined by the Brotherhood to find out our weaknesses?" 

"Of course not!" John exclaimed with exaggerated innocence, a false look of hurt crossing his face, then he shook his head. "Fine. You caught me. I've been usin' you this whole time to get some info on your Super Friends." 

"Manipulative bitch." 

"Thank you." 

Eyebrow arched in amusement, Bobby smirked and noted, "You know, you're like the only guy I know who _doesn't_ get offended by being called a bitch." 

"I'm very in touch with my feminine side." 

"Really. I can see that with the way you dress," Bobby teased, though his observation wasn't totally accurate in any sense of the word. 

"Hey! Just for that, I'm... I'm... gonna steal your biscotti, so there! Oh-- hey, you already ate yours. Jerk." 

_Must not turn gooey over that pout. Must not, must not; just stay COOL, Iceman-- oh, man, that sounds lame._ "Aw, I'm sorry. Hey, I'll order another one just for you, 'kay?" 

"Eh heh. No need! I shouldn't have sweets at this hour an' all! Y'know, 'cause of... sleeping and all that. But... I'm drinking coffee right now..." 

"You're weird," Bobby commented with a smile. "But good weird! Oh, hey!" he called, stopping one of the passing waitresses. "Could I have a refill?" 

"How late do you plan on stayin' up?" St. John asked with some amusement. 

"I don't know," the other boy remarked, shrugging a little and laughing. "However long this stuff keeps me up, I guess." 

"All right. Then I'll have a refill, too," he said to the waitress, who replied with something along the lines of "Sure, sugar" and hurried away to get some more coffee. 

"So, what's it like being a member of the 'baddies'?" Bobby asked abruptly, figuring he might as well ask John a question along those lines in response to they "Hey! What's it like with the X-Men!" question. 

"Not as big-budget as your faction, but hey, at least we've got... uh... heart. I dunno. I like it, though. Besides, Lance is my best friend. I couldn't stand _not_ bein' on the same team as him. And thinking about the _alternative_..." John smirked deviously "I'd sooner smack One-Eye than take orders from him." 

"'One Eye'? Oh! Scott-- oh, shit!" Bobby glanced at his watch and cursed. "Hang on, I gotta make a call before he sends out a search party." 

"'kay," John murmured as Bobby practically leaped out of his seat and ran to the pay-phones. 

This gave Bobby time to think. Then get into an odd, rushed conversation with a mildly distracted Scott. Then see a disgusting sight. Then rush back to John, who seemed to be busying himself by pouring more and more cream into his nearly empty coffee cup. 

John looked up from his task and stared curiously at Bobby. "What's with the face? You look miffed. Summers yell at you?" 

"Nah. He was in a hurry, I think... Uh, Jean was snapping at him to get his ass moving because they're gonna miss a movie, or something. Heh, he didn't sound too thrilled," Bobby answered, shaking his head as the waitress returned with more coffee. "Thanks." John gave him one of those questioning "What else?" looks, and so, Bobby sighed and decided to let loose. "Evan and his girlfriend are here," he revealed, wrinkling his nose with a bit of disgust. "Sucking face. I mean, it doesn't really bother me when people make out, but... it's just _disgusting_ the way they do it! In a public place, too! Sheesh. And you know what else is annoying? How high and mighty Evan got today! He lectured me for like... forever just because I was talking to you. And _then_ he's like 'Oh, wait, I got a date tonight. Gotta go!'" 

John blinked, not quite seeing the offense in that, so the other boy decided to elaborate. 

"He's dating one of the 'bad guys', and it's okay, but I'm not allowed to even talk to you in a totally nonsexual fashion! How hypocritical is that?!" There was a pause after Bobby ranted uncharacteristically, and then he added, rolling his eyes, "Oh, but you can't tell anyone, because only Kurt and I know." 

"One of the...? Please tell me you're talkin' about Phantazia. I don't _care_ that she doesn't live in this state, just please tell me you're talkin' about her." 

"Um... If Phantazia is Pietro's curly-haired sister, then... yes?" 

"Oh, God," John murmured. "This is just fan-_fucking_-tastic!" He angrily took a swig of coffee. "Ow! Bloody... hot... burny stuff... Where is she?!" the severely ticked off boy demanded, standing up abruptly. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything..." It was then that realization slowly sank in. "Oh, man! She's your--?!" 

"Where is she? And that wanker Daniels... I'm gonna beat--" 

"John, calm down before you make a scene and they see you!" Bobby hissed, standing up. His intent was to impose the Australian into sitting back down, but the effect was lost as he realized how _un_imposing he actually was. 

"Fine. I won't make a scene. I'll just play like the villain I am--" He whipped his lighter out "--and inconspicuously torch Daniels." 

"John-- hey!" Bobby protested as St. John angrily started away. "Aw, geez..." he muttered, sprinting after the determined blonde. "Stop!" And with that, he lunged forward and did the only thing to subdue St. John that he could think of... 

"Uh..." John looked down and blinked. "Your arms are around my waist," he pointed out. 

"I know," Bobby groaned, cringing inwardly. 

"And you pulled me _very_ close to you..." 

"Yep," he affirmed, just waiting for John to turn around and release his anger out on _him_. 

"To the point where-- ah... I can, um... _feel_... y'know." 

"Gah!" Bobby cried (as softly as possible, so as to not attract anymore attention), releasing John from his slightly suggestive grasp. _Thank God I'm wearing baggy pants. Baggy pants are my friends!_

"And _you_ didn't want to make a scene," John teased. 

"Right," the younger boy gulped with a forced smile. _Don't turn your head. Don't look that way don'tlookthatway-- ah, shit!_

He closed his eyes and grimaced, expecting to hear a curse, a shout, _anything_. Cautiously, he opened one eye and looked at John's shocked profile. He opened the other and glanced in the direction that John was staring, getting yet another exciting eyeful of some major face-suckage between an oblivious Evan and Wanda. 

"John, I--" 

"I gotta go," he whispered, avoiding Bobby's eyes as he turned and marched towards the exit. 

"Hey!" Bobby cried. He frowned, starting after John, then stopped at their table and put a twenty down before jogging out of the diner. "Wait up!" 

"Why?!" John snarled, halting abruptly and turning to face Bobby. "What do you care; you barely even _know_ me!" 

Bobby stopped, feeling stung by the harsh tone and slightly hostile words. "You think that I _don't_ care?" he asked softly. _Sure, I just met you today, but that doesn't mean I _can't_ care about you!_

"I think-- I don't know! I just want to-- to... I don't know." John shrugged slightly, a hint of sadness apparent in his eyes, and started walking away from the diner again. 

"Well, I do care!" Bobby countered, catching up to the other boy. "I do," he repeated firmly. 

"Yeah, 'cause you're supposed to. Because you and your high and mighty friends think it's your duty to throw pity and hatred at us simultaneously. I don't get you guys..." 

"_Maybe_ I just like you, dumbass," the younger mutant countered. 

"Heh. Not for long," John muttered dryly. "Not once we have to fight. Then you'll turn your back to me, go back to your mansion... pretend like we never even talked tonight..." 

"Whatever happened to your blithe optimism? I like Happy Johnny _much_ more than Cranky Johnny..." 

"It went down Daniels' throat, along with Wanda's tongue," John mumbled sullenly. 

"I thought earlier you said she was overrated." 

"I thought earlier _you_ pointed out that I was lying." 

_Uh. I'll give you that_, Bobby admitted internally. "Okay, maybe I did, but... come on. Don't let this get you down." 

John stopped walking and shook his head. "Y'know... I never wanted to think that she was cheating on me. I mean, the thought crossed my mind once or twice, after vague telephone conversations and not seeing each other for a while... I knew we were growin' distant, but... I pushed my suspicions aside, because what's worse than a boyfriend who can't trust? Well, a lot of things, like flesh-eating viruses, but... I didn't want to not trust my girlfriend. I'm not stupid, though... A part of me saw it comin'. Not with _Evan_, of course, but..." Gazing gloomily at the ground, he shrugged his shoulders a bit with attempted indifference. "Whatever. I shouldn't even care." He sat down on the curb, elbows resting on his knees, fingers trying to busy themselves by meticulously digging under his nails. 

"You're too trusting, I guess," Bobby sighed. "No, wait... not the way I meant to say that. I mean... you just put your faith in the wrong person, that's all." 

"Uh huh. So how do I know _you're_ not another wrong person?" John asked bitterly, taking a sidelong glance in Bobby's direction. 

"I don't know," the boy said helplessly, sitting down beside the dejected blonde. "I guess you're just going to have to trust me, even though we're on opposite teams... _Do_ you trust me?" 

"I did-- I do! But, I just... I--" As his voice became more strained, he trailed off and stared down at his hands. "I..." He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and gulped, despite his desire not to. "Fuuuck. I hate it when this shit happens." 

"Hey, it's okay," Bobby said softly, placing a tentative arm around John's shoulders. His heart fluttered the tiniest bit as his fingers brushed briefly against soft honey-colored locks of hair. Cautiously, he grazed his fingertips along the tears beginning to make their way down the smooth skin of the other boy's cheeks. 

_You always did have a thing for blondes_, his mind pointed out with utter amusement. 

_So?_ he returned defensively. 

John turned his head to face Bobby and pull away from the fingers caressing his skin, his expression a mixture between shock and embarrassment. "Bobby?" he asked almost shyly. 

"Hm?" 

"I... um..." He bit his lower lip for a moment, looking for the right words to say. Despite his flustered countenance, he looked almost angelic under the ethereal light of the street lamp, face framed by golden hair, intense blue eyes boring into Bobby's... St. John leaned in close to Bayville's resident human popsicle, lips brushing briefly against Bobby's nose. The brunette drew in a sharp breath, eyes widened, lips parting, and then-- 

John drew back, closing his eyes. The mood promptly vanished. "I thought I really loved her," he whispered. "But I drove her to it." 

"Man," the brunette groaned, rolling his eyes. He gave John a disapproving frown and said, "I've seen this before on talk shows. Everybody _but_ the cheater gets blamed. It's not your fault, you know, so don't say that you drove her to it, or I'll have to smack some sense into you." 

John laughed a sharp, cynical laugh. "Oh, I did. Trust me, Bobby, this is my fault. I don't know _why_ I'm letting something I brought upon myself bother me." 

"How the hell is this _your_ fault?! You said you were gone for months!" 

"Yeah. _That's_ how I fucked up. I was never around when she needed me... Anyway, I was gone for too long and... I.... er, I kinda got pissed one night. Drank one too many, you know? Sooo I, uh-- heh-- slept with the boss-lady," John explained slowly, looking down at the pavement. He laughed then added quickly, "But I felt horrible about it! I didn't really know what I was doin' while drunk! So, I figured it'd be best to just tell her right away rather than hide somethin' like that. Heh. Honesty is a stupid thing... But she _told_ me that she forgave me; that she wasn't happy, but everything was all right because I at least told the truth! Stupid me, I thought it was all over with now," 

"Oh... I, uh... I don't know what to say," Bobby replied. "I'm, um, sorry?" 

John shrugged nonchalantly and stood up. "Don't be. That relationship's been dead even before I had sex with 'Mrs. Robinson'." He loked down at Bobby and tilted his head curiously. "Wanna go for a walk? Or should you be headin' back to your mansion?" 

"I'm up for walking," the younger mutant nodded, standing up. 

John smiled half-heartedly, then started off without waiting for Bobby. 

"Oh, hey, wait up!" 

"I was gonna buy her some nice jewelry, you know," John said abruptly, resulting in a "huh?" then an understanding "ohh..." from the other boy. The blonde grinned sheepishly, a real smile finally returning to his handsome features. "Yeah. I found the perfect necklace, too. Bloody expensive, so I've been saving up my money for like... months now." Another laugh, less bitter than the last, more lighthearted and amused with his situation. "Now I've got tons of cash and no chick to spend it on. Hey, want a couple of Rolexes?" 

"Heh, those aren't my style. I'm more of a K-Mart brand kinda guy." 

"Aw, c'mon. I'll get ya anything you want. This cash is burnin' a hole in my wallet; I really wanna get rid of some of it." He gave Bobby the most irresistable puppy-dog look, and the brunette heaved a false sigh of defeat. 

"Oh, you've twisted my arm all right. I'd like a Firebird and an Armani suit, oh great sugar daddy." 

"Hm. I'm not _that_ loaded, deary. Maybe a used Miata and a vintage tux from the 'seventies." 

"You're not a very good sugar daddy," Bobby teased. "You're like a poor man's Hugh Heffner-- only younger and better looking." 

"Thaaanks," St. John drawled. "I may not be _terribly_ rich, but... um, my love don't cost a--" 

"No! J-Lo is the devil! I'll accept your free love if you don't sing!" 

"Aww. You just can't admit that I'm a regular diva," the older boy sniffed haughtily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Don't know talent when ya hear it." 

"All right, then," Bobby countered playfully. "Sing." 

"Er?" 

"Sing for me," he repeated. "C'mon, Elton John; sing." 

"You don't want me singin'-- not unless you want the stray cats around 'ere to start yowling along with my melodious voice." 

"I'm sure you're not _that_ bad." 

"Maaaybe. But you'll never know," the blonde asserted triumphantly. 

"Aw, just you wait, Johnny; I'll get you to sing yet." 

"That a threat?" John inquired with an arched eyebrow. 

Bobby nodded. "You'd best be scared, boy." 

"I'm _trembling_." 

* * * * * 

It was a rare moment of peace for Fred Dukes; sitting in the backyard, surrounded by snow in the silent, serene night with Amy's hand in his, slim fingers caressing his own thick ones. 

Now, Fred might not've been the most insightful guy in the word, and sensitivity... well, most people assumed that that was a concept lost on him, but sitting under the light of the moon and stars, Freddy felt-- well, he felt something fluffy; possibly the same fluffy thing that made Lance bound down the stairs babbling about what a shiny day it was, all that time ago. 

She made him feel special. Most girls got an utter look of repulsion on their delicate faces whenever he built up the nerve to ask them out, but not Amy. She just smiled that coy, secretive smile of hers and said "Of course", like it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

On occassion, he wondered what she saw in him. What made her date a big, fat slob like himself? At first, a tiny, suspicious, still wounded by Jean Grey part of him thought that she was joking, that it was all an elaborate prank coined to humiliate the fat kid. 

But, then she kept on dating him. They even kissed-- chastely-- and did normal teenage things. She cooked, they talked, laughed, watched TV, went on walks, went to movies, and still he wondered: What's in it for her? Love? Desperation? The longest, most not-funny joke of his life? 

Fred sighed, turning his gaze to watch Amy, his girlfriend. His _girlfriend_. He couldn't help but smile. He had something that the others had' something that set him on the same level as his teammates who actually had the looks to get the girls (or the guys, in some cases). 

Oh, wait... he got it now. 

Fred had _self esteem!_ Amazing what a little push and a shove from someone who cared about him could do. He was no longer affected by the casual laughter of others. He no longer cared about what the snooty, superficial little Jean Greys of the world thought about him. He was Fred J. Dukes, the biggest, toughest kid on the playground. The alpha male. Oh yes. He didn't take anything from anybody... Except maybe Mystique. And Magneto. And sometimes Lance. Todd, too, as well as the rest of his teammates... But other than that, no shit from nobody! 

"_Dare Wear?!_ You disappear and take a four hour trip to _DARE WEAR?!_" Lance's voice erupted from inside the house, resulting in rapid blinking on Freddy's part, which was then followed by a glower on his face. Leave it to Lance to ruin a moment like this. 

"Not _just_ Dare Wear, Lance! I also went to Best Buy! And--" 

And what's a moment ruined by Lance without St. John to stomp it dead with comments about which fetish stores he's been to? 

"Okay, okay, I don't _care_ where you were, but you just left without telling Todd or calling or anything! What if something happened and-- why do you have a stuffed kangaroo?" 

"First of all, you sound worse than my mum. Secondly, I was also at Toys-R-Us, and I thought it was cute. There's also a stuffed penguin in there if ya dig through the other stuff I got! The penguin and the kangaroo are good friends!" 

"Freddy, dear, I don't think your eye should be twitching like that," Amy pointed out flatly. 

"If my eye's twitching, it's because those jerks inside are ruining the moment!" he retorted crankily with an irritated huff. For the first time in months, he wasn't stuck in a musty hotel room with them-- he was free and alone with the girl he cared deeply about-- and he _still_ couldn't escape their presence! Sure, Lance and John were great guys in small doses, but after five months... 

_Murder's not THAT bad a crime, is it?_

"Please don't refer to your friends as jerks. I don't think they're aware of what they've interrupted with their loud voices," she countered practically, a little, secretive smile tugging at her lips. "Besides, there are going to be many more nights like this for us-- I'd hope, anyway." 

Fred nodded, returning the peculiar smile with his own broad grin. "Yeah, definitely many more nights like this." He leaned close to Amy and planted a quick kiss to her lips. 

_I think I really do love her..._

* * * * * 

Pietro was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with him. Maybe he really _was_ a sadist. Or _maybe_ he was just very easily amused. After all, how else could he explain watching Lance and St. John argue constantly for almost two years and _still_ find it entertaining every single time? Quick, observant blue eyes darted back and forth between the combatants as Lance freaked out like some psychotic housewife worrying about her brood and St. John ever so flakily responded while Todd threw in a barbed comment every once in a while. 

This ensued for a while, until Todd went upstairs and the pseudo-arguing was replaced with the casual, friendly banter that always followed their tiffs. Watching St. John pull out some bizarre bondage clothing and chatter to Lance about how nice the sales lady was about getting him to try on everything in the store proved to be infinitely more interesting than the argument itself. 

"Okay, okay, this is all well and good and _utterly disturbing_, but um, could you put that collar down and tell me why you went and blew your cash on that stuff?" Lance finally cut in as the blonde was in the middle of describing all of the things he saw in the store. 

"Oh, sure! I was just... doin' some early Christmas shoppin'! Y'know, it's always good to be a month early an' all that. So... uh... don't look in any of the bags, 'cause you might ruin the surprise!" 

"I really hope you didn't get me anything from that store." 

"Why not, Lance? I happen to find vinyl pants sexy!" Pietro purred, throwing an arm around his boyfriend's waist. He glanced over at St. John and arched an eyebrow. "You _did_ get some vinyl pants in his size, didn't you?" 

"Um... If he's the same size as _Bobby_, then..." 

"Bobby? And who's this 'Bobby' you're talking about?" Pietro inquired with a wicked grin. Maybe he _wouldn't_ have to intervene much to shove St. John and Bobby together. It looked as if they were doing just fine on their own. First day meeting and the two were already shopping at kinky stores together. 

"Um, he was... the cashier! Yeah! He looked to be about Lance's size, so we talked and he tried on some clothes and I had some extra cash so I bought 'em for the hell of it and and and-- this is the start of a beautiful relationship between me an' him," St. John explained quickly, topping off his rapid lie with a solemn nod. 

"I'm sure," the pale teen smirked. "So, you ran out and bought clothes for a stranger? That's a little strange, even for you." 

"Well, it's not that easy. I mean, it's-- hello, Wanda." 

Pietro blinked, then turned to Lance, who said, "Hey, Wanda." 

_Oh!_

Wanda stood in the doorway, eyebrow quirked as she watched the three boys stand around the bags of oddities St, John had purchased. "Hey," she said, setting her coat down on the couch. "What're you boys up to?" 

"Hi, Sis! Johnnyboy got us all early presents! Maybe you should as him for yours," the speed demon suggested, ignoring the sharp elbowing he received in the ribs courtesy of St. John Allerdyce. 

"Oh? And what'd you get for me, Johnny?" she teased, as John, in response, got this nervous jittery look that Pietro quickly took notice of. 

"I got you... you..." He quickly reached into one of the bags and pulled out a pair of red vinyl gloves. After blinking for a few moments, he slowly handed them to Wanda with a mildly confused expression. "These. Aren't they gorgeous?" 

After a pause, she accepted the gloves with a slightly cross look and said in the flatest voice Pietro had ever heard from her: "You're so romantic." 

St. John gulped, looked around, then laughed abruptly. "Haha, I uh... fooled ya, huh? Heh, yeah, I.. um... That's a joke present! You didn't _really_ think I was gonna give ya somethin' like _that_ for Christmas, did ya? Have a _little_ faith in me, luv!" 

And then, like in a bad episode of "Full House", fake-- yet utterly wholesome-- laughter ensued. Wanda shook her head and smiled, pulling the gloves on her hands. "Why don't we take the rest of the stuff in those bags upstairs and test them out?" she purred, slipping her arms around her boyfriend's torso. 

"Sure thing, luv," he murmured with a resigned sigh. 

Pietro watched the couple make their way upstairs, then turned to Lance once they were out of sight. "Hey, Laaaance, guess what I got?" he cooed in a sing-song voice. 

The older boy peered at Pietro, then got a devilish look on his face. "Handcuffs? You took that from Johnny's bag o' fun, didn't you?" 

A perky nod, then: "If you can take 'em from me, I'll let you tie me up!" 

"Sounds like a challenge. You're on, Pietro." 

* * * * *

A/N: If Evo wasn't sucking so much lately, I'd have more to say. O.o I mean, it's seriously impeding my writing because I'm like "Gaah, no wanna watch Evo; therefore, no wanna write Evo fics." But! I have a new fic idea which is sort of uhhh a different take on something in "Slushies" (but it's NOT slash! As far as I know! There's just something in Slushies that I really wanted to do differently, but couldn't due to the plot and all that, so I'm gonna build a new fic off of it later, and it's in no way related to either Slushies OR TD because I'm so not in the mood for that!)!! It's wonky at the moment and is in serious need of a beta reader >. Um. Thanks for the reviews!! I'm surprised that I'm still getting some despite the lack of decent chapters! XD Anywho, next chapter, expect some mild angst, lots and lots o' Lance, Johnny on drugs, Todd taking control, and more of the evil that is Amy! 

Wow, looking back, I don't like this revision much, either O.o I think it's because all of my inspiration vanished! Wheeee!! Rosiel's tired. 


	6. A Note About Future and Past Chapters :D

**In case you can't tell, these are notes, NOT a new chapter. :D**

Umm. Yes. Hi! Normally, I wouldn't post authors' notes in their own chapter BUUUT these are kinda... uh.. important, I guess. O.o; Anyway... er.. whee! Okay, there's been tons of revisions made to Tumbling Down (mostly in Chapter 5, as that chapter was utter shit spawned from a bad case of writers' block); some plot-wise, characterization-wise, events-wise, and just plain grammatical corrections. :P Due to these changes, which affect the plot a little, as well as the timeline (though I'll probably be the only one to notice these changes :D But hey, they make it easier for me to write), I'll be reposting, oh.. every chapter. Even chapter 1! Whee! Of course, this doesn't mean that you have to go back and re-read them since... well, a lot of the changes aren't very BIG, with the exception of Chapter 5, which was pretty much totally rewritten to compensate for its initial shittiness and plotlessness. Oh yeah, and I evaporated the puppy and returned that scene (St. John and Bobby almost-kiss-but-not-quite scene) to the way it was originally SUPPOSED to be written because... uh... I think I was high when I put the puppy in, because that in no way was planned on. O.o;; Anywho! 

Okay. Um. Oh yes, as for Chapter 6, er... heheh, I haven't even started it because of time constraints (what with writing a bunch of other stories as well as rewriting/revising TD). Well, I HAD started it... multiple times. . The problem is that EVERY opening I come up with is SHITTY! Yargh! Stupid stupid writers' block! I think that's all for this authors' note. Um, so just keep that in mind when I upload Chapter 6; ALL of the chapters will be updated and... yes... so if you read 6 and are totally confused, then you should probably go back to the new and improved chapters and such. 

Yay! This is my first time in like... a month back in my account!! XD Stupid not-letting-Rosiel-in bug. Ah whatever. 

--Rosiel 


	7. Cinnamon Altoids

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: Uhhh... well, damn. After a year of idleness, TD is back! Hopefully, I still have readers... I would like to apologize muchly for taking so long to get this chapter out. It's just been having major... issues. Originally, there was going to be a very big action sequence... but that was what was keeping me back for a year (because I kinda... can't write action). So! You're stuck with the action-free chapter (the same events happen, I just don't... go into a helluva a lot of detail over the fighting part) 

Again, I want to say SORRY for not getting this out sooner! This has been a bad year for me as far as writing goes. And thus, this chapter is dedicated to everybody who ever nagged me to get this thing done (you all know who you are :D). More author notes at the bottom (mostly to clarify this one line)! 

Ohh, by the way, after all those chapters of fluff, this is the one where the real plot comes in.... Enjoy :D 

**Chapter 6: Cinnamon Altoids**

"Mmm, there. Right there," Pietro purred lazily as the brunette's lips worked their way down the slim body. He squirmed slightly as Lance's tongue flickered lazily over his right nipple, and his "there"s became little more than mumbled gibberish. 

Lance grinned, then stopped as a feeling of dread abruptly came over him. 

"Huh?" Pietro sat up, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly. "Why'd you stop?" 

"Um..." 

"_What_?" the younger boy demanded impatiently. 

"There's something we have to do today, isn't there?" 

Pietro rolled his eyes, then quickly went through his mental calendar. After a very brief moment of silence he said, "Nope!" He hooked his arms around the other boy's neck and pulled him closer. "Now finish what you started, or I'll tie you to the bed and tease you mercilessly." 

"Heh. That doesn't sound half bad," Lance murmured, slipping his arm around the ashen-haired teen's middle. "Sorry for killing the moment. I just had this weird feeling that we were forgetting something." 

"Goodie. Now make it up to me!" 

"You're demanding today." Lance smirked, and aggressively crushed lips against Pietro's as his fingers tangled themselves in the ivory tresses. _Yummy. He tastes like cinnamon Altoids_, he mused. Not much of a surprise there, seeing as how the speed demon had an addiction to those things (he claimed that they made him feel more "awake"-- as if he needed that). 

_*Creeeak* _

Hm. Pietro's never creaked before. 

Lance blinked, then noticed the look on Pietro's face and abruptly pulled away. It was now his turn to say, "_What?_" in that impatient voice. 

"Todd!" 

He turned to face the doorway, only to find the Toad standing there in his "battle suit", looking rather... horrified. 

_Hey! What's so horrific about me and Pietro naked in a bed together-- ohh._

"I-- you-- uh-- yo?" the youngest Brotherhood member squeaked, his eyes widened to saucer-like proportions. 

"Oi, Todd, what's th' bloody hold up?" St. John called from down the hall. 

_Oh crap._ Instinctively, he yanked the sheets up enough to cover as much of his and Pietro's bodies as possible. _Damn prying eyes! Only I can look at naked Pietro!_

Todd attempted to stammer something in reply to John, but all that came out was another squeak. With a sigh, the blonde came down the hall and pushed past the smaller boy so that he could see just what was so bad. 

Lance stared at his buddy, wondering why the Aussie was dressed in his "Pyro" suit-- well, partly dressed. He had the pants part on, but the top merely hung around his waist, leaving his bare chest for all the world to see. 

_Hot damn, he's... hot._

Lance Alvers was the master of the English language. 

"Geez, can't you guys give it a rest?" St. John grumbled, pulling the costume up so that he could slip one of his arms into the sleeves. "Y'know, boss lady's gonna be here in a couple of minutes, and I doubt she's gonna wanna see the two of you like that." 

"Why would she-- oh, shit!" Without thinking, Lance jumped out of bed, causing Todd to emit a yelp as he caught an eyeful of the brunette's "naughty bits". "Shit, shit, _shit!_ I totally forgot!" 

As Lance hopped around trying to get his costume on, Pietro decided now would be the best time to push the other two out of the room and shut the door when the three of them were alone in the hall. 

"I'm uh, gonna go downstairs, yo," Todd said with a cough, his eyes avoiding Pietro entirely. 

Hard blue eyes watched Todd descend the stairs, then turned to St. John with an accusatory look. "How much of Lance did you see?" 

"Relax, it's nothin' I haven't seen before, Pietro. But-- uhm... you..." The blonde left his comment at that, deciding it was safer to trail off with an innocent whistle as he tried to keep his gaze from traveling downward. 

"What?" 

"Dude, I can see your... _ahem_... everything." 

"Huh? _Oh crap!_" And with that, the speedster was gone, off to change into his ever so fruity Quicksilver costume. 

* * * * * 

Lance wanted to hit himself. How could he have forgotten something as important as this?! Luckily, Mystique was running a few minutes late, which gave him more than enough time to get ready for what could possibly be the Brotherhood's most important assignment ever: the elimination of the Friends of Humanity. 

Well, that's what they were hoping to accomplish, anyway. The chances of _totally_ destroying the organization were slim to none, but as long as they caused significant damage, then Mystique and Mags would be satisfied (and if not that, at least they'd lay off the verbal abuse for a while). 

As usual, Magneto wouldn't be accompanying them, but hey, at least they had Mystique and her big guns to help them not die! 

_Pffth, like she'd really care if any of us bit the dust._

Well, not true. Mystique would care if Wanda died on duty, but that's only because she had some weird "girl power" attitude that made her give a rat's ass over what few girls they had (and by "few", he meant... one, unless you were counting Destiny and the one other girl they picked up on their journeys, but neither of them were very active in the Brotherhood) more than the boys. And she'd probably care if something horrible happened to St. John, thanks to some bizarre bond the two had. 

_Okay, so here we are. The Brotherhood of Mutants, off on a suicide mission. Well, she never called it a "suicide" mission, but c'mon. All of us versus a bunch of hicks with enough guns to take over a small country._

For a brief moment, Lance wondered if this would be the end of the Brotherhood. Mystique had made it very clear that 1) there was always a chance that not everybody would make it out alive and 2) she couldn't care less if some of them died (by "some", though, he was sure she really meant Todd). Of course, it was all very easy for her not to be as worried as the Brotherhood boys were, seeing as how she was packing some big guns and they... were left with their wits. Oh, and their mutant powers. Couldn't forget about those, since they _were_ the reason the Brotherhood was even around in the first place. 

"D'you think he's okay in there?" Freddy asked softly, as if he thought the FoH may somehow hear him if he spoke any louder. Considering that the Brotherhood was currently sitting in a van across the street from the "abandoned" building where the meeting was being held, the chances them actually being overheard were slim to none... that is, unless one of the guys they were supposed to fight turned out to be some kinda mutant. 

Todd gave the large boy a reassuring grin and said, "'Course he is, yo. If somethin' happened, he woulda yelled into that thing we wired him with instead of--" 

Just then, the Toad was interrupted by a voice singing fairly off key through the speaker Mystique had set up in the van. "C'mon, people now, smile on your brother--" 

"Pyro, shut up!" Mystique hissed in response through the wire. "Don't say anything until you're ready to attack." 

"Right-o, boss." 

With a sigh, Lance murmured under his breath. "He's gonna get himself killed." 

"Yep," Pietro affirmed. "And then the FoH is gonna blow us up and we're all gonna die." 

The brunette nodded. "And then we're gonna go to hell and beat the crap out of him there." 

"Uhh-- guys?" came St. John's now nervous voice over the wire. 

"What?" Mystique answered impatiently. 

"They seem to be circling around me and uhh... help?" There was a brief crackling from St. John's end, and when the Lance looked out the window, he could see the glow of a rather intense fire through the warehouse windows. 

"Well, there's our cue," Pietro said, and promptly hopped out of the van, followed by the others. 

"This should be a piece of cake," Freddy said with a grin as the boys set out to attack the warehouse. 

* * * * * 

Lance was staring at the wall, his mind consumed with a certain numbness that left him seemingly catatonic. Of course, his body didn't feel nearly as dead as his mind-- quite the opposite, in fact. His head was throbbing worse than any hangover, his body was sore, and there was a mild burn on his arm courtesy of Johnny's fire getting a wee bit out of control (and by "wee bit" he meant "became a raging inferno that engulfed the entire warehouse in flames"). All of this made him painfully aware that he was still alive. 

"He gonna say anything?" Todd asked in a hush-hush voice as he and Freddy stood by their team leader's bed. 

"Maybe the blast messed up his head," the larger boy suggested hopelessly. The two stared at Lance, trying to hide their own mild fear from each other. "Or maybe he's just... uh, really tired." 

"He's been sleepin' for four hours, man. 'Sides, if he _was_ still tired, his eyes would be closed!" 

"Sometimes I don't close my eyes when I'm tired..." Freddy murmured indignantly in his own defense. 

Todd opened his mouth to retort, but stopped as Lance rolled onto his side and looked up at his teammates. 

"I'm fine," Lance said abruptly, his voice dry and harsh. "Where's Pietro?" 

"One-track mind as always, huh, Lance?" Todd forced with a wry smile. He intended to sound teasing, but the words only came out a hollow imitation of his usual easygoing tone. 

"Where's Pietro." 

Now it was less of a question and more of a demand. Todd sighed and looked to Freddy for help, but the older boy simply shrugged his shoulders with a helpless expression on his face. "I'm gonna check up on John now..." he said in a low voice, turning heel to exit the room. 

Lance stared after him, a frown cutting into his features. "Tell me, damn it-- ow!" He winced and relaxed visibly, closing his eyes. If Todd wanted to play that way, fine. He'd just rest up and grab the boy later. Personally, he was too tired at the moment to get up and chase the kid around (and besides, his body was in no mood to do much of... anything at the moment). He turned his head to glare at Freddy and said, "So, are you gonna make like Todd and not tell me?" 

"I-- uh-- umm..." Freddy stammered, trying to think of what to say. "You see, it's kinda complicated and--" 

"Fucking tell me already!" Lance snapped just as Freddy blurted out with: "Pietro's gone." 

Lance's skin was looking an unhealthy color to begin with, so when his face went another shade towards gray, Freddy found himself wondering if he was about to keel over and die any second. He bit his lip nervously, then said, "Lance, are you--" 

"How did it happen?" 

"I dunno..." 

"Don't fucking lie to me. Just tell me!" Lance snarled, his voice rising considerably. 

"He..." Freddy stopped, trying to look for the right words. "Look, when Johnny was shot, the fire went out of control--" 

"I know that part already." 

"Yeah, well, after that, when you went slamming into the wall, Pietro got distracted and was hit with one of Daniels' spikes. Then part of the building collapsed around him and Daniels and-- look, Mystique told us we had to leave before we all died in the fire. So we grabbed you and Johnny and split. Last I saw, the fire died when Johnny passed out, and those Friends of Humanity guys were surrounding the spot where Pietro was trapped," Freddy said, his voice bearing a small trace of guilt. "We just... we couldn't get to him. Even the X-Men had to run away." 

"Bull shit! You said that the fire stopped when you were running; you should've gone back _then_ to get him!" 

"They still had their guns! It woulda been suicide!" Freddy snapped, finally losing his patience with Lance. Hell, with the way Lance was talking, he made it sound as if they _purposely_ left Pietro behind. He sighed, then added in a softer voice, "Man, it's like they _knew_ we were coming." 

Lance stared at Freddy for a moment with hard eyes, then shut them and allowed his body to relax against the bed. "Look, Freddy, I'm kinda tired right now. Got a lot on my mind. Can you go away?" 

"Uh... sure, man," the larger boy said with uncertainty, and carefully walked out of the room, making sure to close the door softly behind him. 

As soon as he heard the door shut, Lance opened his eyes and slowly sat up with a wince. He stared ahead at the darkness, then sighed and brought a hand to his forehead, where it lingered before slowly moving up and through his hair. "God," he murmured under his breath. 

* * * * * 

St. John stirred and, with a sleepy groan, rolled over and covered his head with the blanket. Then he fell back to sleep. Then the process repeated itself. It'd been going on this way for quite some time now and, frankly, Todd was beginning to lose patience. He was about ready to tear the blankets off of Johnny and kick him out of the bed. In fact, had he not known that St. John was currently nude (damn him for going commando under his uniform) under those sheets, he would have indeed done just that. 

He supposed he should've cut the guy _some_ slack for having been shot and all. Of course, the wound wasn't all that bad, having gotten him in the upper arm rather than somewhere bad like... the head. Then again, the bullet had some kinda wacky drug in it that made St. John go a little nuts with the fire before passing out, so that made up for the lack of fatal wounds. 

"Todd?" the exhausted voice asked suddenly. Due to the sleepiness ingrained in his voice, St. John sounded oddly... young... and vulnerable. 

"Yeah?" 

"I'd hate t' wake up t' your face ev'ry day." 

_Must... not... kill..._

"Gee, Johnny, that must be the drugs talking!" Todd said in a strained "I'm so kind and forgiving!" voice, forcing a smile to his face. 

"Why'm I naked with you 'ere?" 

"You don't remember anything?" 

"Well... my arm hurts. A lot," St. John said in reply, looking down at his bandaged upper arm. 

"Yeah, getting shot does that to ya," the other boy retorted dryly. "But you don't remember nothin' else?" 

"Ohh, I remember quite a bit... up until the gettin' shot part. Speakin' of which... wasn't our attack s'posed to be, y'know, a _surprise_?" 

"Yeah; actually, that's what I wanted to ask you about. Did you... see anybody that looked, I dunno... familiar?" 

"Todd, b'sides you guys an' the X-Geeks, I didn't exactly _see_ anybody," St. John said with a sigh, then mumbled, "It was just a bunch of backs of heads and blurs." 

Todd nodded, then looked down at his shoes nervously. He seemed to be trying to find the right thing to say, so it took him a moment. Finally, he said, "Fuck." Plain and simple. And then, in a low, almost urgent voice, "John, you're never gonna believe who I saw there." 

"Yeah?" 

Todd looked around, almost guiltily, and swallowed. "I saw--" 

"Hey guys." 

The skinny teen jumped and turned around abruptly, only to find Freddy standing in the doorway. "Fuck, man, ya almost gave me a heart attack, yo!" 

"Hey, it's not my fault you've been so jumpy since we got home," Freddy retorted defensively. 

"Ain't you s'posed to be with Lance?" Todd asked, arching an eyebrow at Freddy. 

"I was. He told me he wanted to get some rest. Got a lot on his mind, y'know?" 

Todd nodded. "Yeah. He's got a lot to take in," he said softly. 

St. John blinked, more confused now than he ever was. "Uh... Lance? What happened t' Lance?" 

Freddy and Todd exchanged glances, not sure which one of them should explain the whole story to St. John. It took a second, but Freddy crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I've done enough talking today, man. You do it." 

The younger boy scowled, but turned to the bedridden mutant nonetheless. "All right, so you know how the X-Geeks showed up a couple minutes before you got shot?" 

"Yeah. Me 'n Iceman went against each other, then that bloody blue guy had to go an' distract me. I bet that's why I got shot..." the blonde muttered, taking an angry glance at his arm. 

Todd shrugged. "Whatever happened to you, I didn't see. But uh... yeah, after you got shot, Lance was all pissed 'cause he didn't know you were _shot_, he just thought one of Cueball's jerks hurt you. So, he... uh..." 

"He tried to avalanche Summers. Not the ground beneath him, but... uh, him," Freddy put in bluntly. 

The pyrokinetic arched an eyebrow, not sure what to make of that. "Oh. How'd that go?" 

"Uhh... well... we learned something new about his powers: they don't work on people. They kinda... go shooting right back at him. So... he... went flying into a wall," Todd concluded with a wince. "But he's okay now!" he added hastily upon catching the look on St. John's face. 

The blonde nodded, taking this information in. "So... What about Wanda? And Pietro?" 

Again, Freddy and Todd exchanged glances, this time looking more fidgety than before. "Wanda won't come out of her room..." the large mutant murmured. "Look, um... Pietro's gone." 

"Gone... like in the _dead_ sense, or in the 'he ran away in the heat of battle' sense?" 

"Gone like... we don't know," Freddy said helplessly with a shrug. 

Todd looked from one boy to the other, then scowled. "He ain't dead! We just gotta figure out what happened to him..." 

"And how the hell are we gonna do that? None of us even _know_ what happened in there! I mean, just look! Our big 'secret' attack turned out to not be so secret, then those bloody X-Freaks show up an' attack 'cause they think we're terrorizing the poor li'l civilians. And we lose one of our own, two of us get injured, and _you guys_ are the last ones standing!" St. John shook his head. "This is just... How the hell did this all happen?" 

"Somebody musta tipped them off," Todd muttered. "I mean, that's the only way they coulda known we were comin'. Of course, your setting the place on fire didn't help us any." 

"Huh?" 

"After you were shot. Man, you almost torched the place with everybody inside!" 

"Ohhh," John mused, as if he just remembered. "Yeah. Guess I was under the influence. D'you think whatever was in the bullet is gonna have a lastin' effect on me?" 

"Hope not." 

"It's a good thing they didn't get my writin' arm..." 

Todd rolled his eyes. "Yeah, real good thing, yo," he agreed sarcastically. 

Freddy, meanwhile, had been listening to the two. The realization of what had just happened hadn't completely sunk in yet. Oh, sure, he _knew_ very well that Pietro had been stabbed and trapped; that Lance had suffered a mild concussion; that St. John was shot in the arm by a bullet that had _something_ in it. He knew that they had met up with a group of anti-mutant jerkoffs who were fully prepared to deal with the Brotherhood, and that the X-Men probably saw St. John's mutant sig on that stupid computer of theirs and decided that the Brotherhood was up to no good, but none of it seemed wholly real to him. It was like... he was expecting Pietro to burst into the room any minute, the same old cocky smirk on his face. Any second now... 

Everybody was in the house except for Pietro. On most nights, this wouldn't be a big deal. Pietro liked staying out late-- hell, they all did. He supposed it didn't really matter on those nights when no one was home because he _knew_ they would be coming back later, be it that night, the next day... hell, even a week later. However long it took, as long as there was that certainty, it was okay. 

It was funny how empty the house felt when that certainty was taken away. 

Freddy needed something stable, something _safe_ before the realization could fully sink in. When the other two were finished with the explanations, he said, "I'm gonna-- I'm gonna call Amy now." 

"Don't," Todd said suddenly in a voice that showed more backbone than usual, much to Freddy's surprise. "Don't you tell her _anything_ about tonight." 

"Why the hell not?" 

The scrawny teen looked conflicted for a second, but quickly put his rarely used "resolve face" on. "Because. She ain't one of us, Freddy. What happened tonight... What happened was strictly a Brotherhood thing, okay?" 

"Fine," the other boy said somewhat grudgingly, then walked out of the room to go to his own. As soon as he was gone, Todd turned to St. John again and said in that same urgent voice as before: 

"John, I saw her there." 

"What?" 

"When we ran in to attack the FoH... In the crowd, I saw Amy there. She knew what was goin' on." 

* * * * *

A/N: Well, I did promise pain for this chapter! I don't know if I put in as much as I should have, though. Was the ending a surprise to anybody? Prolly not :D 

And now, a comment on the part where Freddy talks about guns and how it would be suicide to go against the FoH when they're all packin' heat (so to speak). I would just like to say, before I get any corrections, that YES, I do know that he's pretty much bullet proof, what with having impenetrable skin and all that. However, as far as the context of this fic goes, he never said it was suicidal for him. The way it was going, if he had to go get Pietro, he would've had to drop Lance in the middle of the action and run after Pietro, which prolly would've resulted in Lance getting shot. That, or Todd and Wanda would have to drop Johnny to get Pietro, during which they'd promptly be shot :D Plus, as far as he goes in this fic, he's never been shot before. He doesn't exactly want to test out the limits of his mutation in the given situation ;D 

Anyway! I've sorta reached the point of no return in this chapter, which means that I musssst write the next one. 

Ohh yeah, and a note to any new readers: this fic was started before Season 2, so uhh... Wanda in this fic is quite different from Evo Wanda. For instance, Evo Wanda could have (if she didn't hate him) saved Pietro and blown up the FoH single handedly, most likely. This Wanda's not that powerful, sooo... yeah! 

Stay tuned for the next chapter! 


	8. Step Aside, Pinnochio!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. :P 

A/N: I'm damn sorry that this chapter took so long after promising that it wouldn't >.> This has been a rather busy year for me, what with applying for college, working on my comic Eternity, Inc. (), working on general school crap, etc. That and the fact that I kinda... got out of the Evo fandom for a few months. However, once again, I'm back! And I've got a nice long chapter for you! Well, longer than the previous chapters, anyway. I hope this is good stuff, as... I want it to be good stuff. See ya at the bottom! 

**Chapter 7: Step Aside, Pinnochio!**

"Pietro." 

_Am I dead?_

When Pietro came to and felt the dull pain flaring out of his side, his body pretty much responded to the question with a firm "no". 

"Pietro." 

And there was that voice again. He supposed he should've just opened his eyes to see 1) where he was and 2) who was with him; but no. For the time being, he'd rather keep his head slumped down on his shoulder and his eyes closed. It felt almost like sleep, which was nice. 

"Pieeeetro." 

Slowly, more and more of his brain (along with the Pietro Maximoff version of common sense) was waking up and displacing the "let's lie down as if we were dead!" part of him. This part of him very quickly realized that the voice belonged to none other than Evan Daniels. 

_Evan. Evan-used-to-be-my-best-friend Daniels. Evan-stupid-X-Geek Daniels. Evan-guy-who's-sleeping-with-my-sister-while-John-isn't-busy-sleeping-with-her-dear-god-that-was-a-ba d-mental-picture Daniels. Evan-stabbed-me-when-I-wasn't-looking Daniels!_

This was enough to motivate Pietro to open his eyes. Evan initially took it as a good, he's-not-dead sign.... until he saw the murderous look in those eyes. 

"Uhh... I just wanted to-- are you okay?" Evan asked. 

"Yeah, I guess, for a guy who just got _stabbed_," Pietro snapped defensively, which ended all attempts at speaking to each other for a moment. This was good, as it gave him time to assess the situation. 

All right, first off, he'd been stabbed. However, judging by the lack of death and pain of the extremely unbearable variety, it probably wasn't too deep, and it probably didn't hit anything vital. He looked down at the bandage that was wrapped around his middle, noting that even though there was blood seeping through, the wound appeared to have been taken care of (poorly, but taken care of nonetheless), which he found to be rather odd. Good, but odd. 

Secondly, he was chained up. His hands and feet were bound, preventing all hope of making a speedy escape. He glanced at Evan and noticed that the other boy was chained up, too; his arms tied behind his back (most likely to prevent any spikings). 

_Great. Well, at least the bastard can't stab me again._

All right, moving on. The third thing that came to his attention was that they were in a very tiny, very mobile room-- 

"Gah!" 

--that just hit a pothole. 

When it was all put together, things were not looking good for Pietro Maximoff. 

And then, to make things _so_ much better, Evan decided to break the silence and speak. This was just what Pietro needed, conversation with a guy he wouldn't choose to be stuck with in a million years. "Pietro, I just wanted to say..." 

_Hm. Sounds nervous. This means he's about to break into something heartfelt. Geez, why didn't those guys just shoot me? That would've been way more merciful than this! Hm, maybe if I squirm around a bit, I can reopen the wound and bleed to death before he breaks into the "I love you, man!"s_, he thought with a hint of optimism. 

"...that..." 

"What, Daniels? Quit with the pauses already; you know I can't stand that," Pietro said in a casual voice, sounding as if he was completely disregarding the fact that they were probably being led to their inevitable deaths. 

There was a thin frown, then Evan spat out, "I just wanted to tell you that it was an accident! And I'm sorry that this happened." 

"Ohh, Daniels apologized! That just makes it all better! Now the scary men leading us to our death are gonna stop the car and let us out! And then somewhere an angel will get her wings!" the speed demon proclaimed in an insanely over-exaggerated voice. Pietro scoffed and, had his arms not been chained up, he would have crossed them over his chest in order to better illustrate his exasperation. "Can you tell me something useful right now? Like, where these guys are taking us and what's gonna happen?" 

Evan shrugged, biting back a scathing retort. "They're taking us out of the state; that's all I know. I don't think they're going to kill us, though, 'cause they had the chance to do it earlier and didn't." 

"They could be taking us somewhere to do it slowly," Pietro pointed out (not because he necessarily believed it, but because he just wanted to contradict Evan). 

"Well, great. I get to slowly die by your side," Evan muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just the way I always wanted to go out." 

"I'm touched," Pietro said dryly. "So, what're we gonna do, because I-- I..." The white-haired boy trailed off, as if he'd suddenly been struck by something. Evan tensed up, almost ready top ask him what was wrong, when Pietro cleared his throat and said in a forced "I'm strong like an Amazon" voice: "What happened to everybody else?" 

Evan paused for a moment, then said, "I think they all got away. That fire was really intense, but I don't think it killed anybody." 

"Oh." 

"They'll come for us, man," 

"Yeah," Pietro said in a slightly distant voice. "Yeah, I'm sure they will." 

* * * * * 

"Oh," St. John said in a very simple, calm voice. "I'm gonna kill her." 

_Ohhh, great. Smart move, Todd! Tell the guy who loathes Amy about how she sold us out, then expect him _not_ to get all homicidal about it!_ The younger boy wanted to smack himself-- or, better yet, smack St. John until the blonde forgot everything he just told him. 

"Um... please tell me that 'kill' is Aussie slang for somethin' else," Todd said with a little grin, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up. 

"Nope, it pretty much means kill," John shrugged. He caught the look on Todd's face and let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, you can't say that she doesn't deserve it. Because of her, Lance got all head-woundy, Wanda's cryn' in her room, I got shot, and-- oh yeah!-- Pietro could be _dead_!" 

"But, she's-- Freddy really cares about her. I mean, I'm not dancin' with joy over what that bitch did, but c'mon! We don't even know if she did it!" 

At that, St. John rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Who else could'a done it?" he challenged, and then, with an uncharacteristic sneer on his face, added, "And Freddy can just sod off! He pro'lly let it slip to her in the first place!" 

"Yeah, but... you aren't serious about the 'kill' part, are ya, John?" 

The blonde shook his head and gave his teammate an almost guilty look. "You _know_ that Mystique's gonna do somethin' about it. And if she doesn't, Mags will." 

"Well, then we're not gonna tell her!" the scrawny teen retorted. 

"Todd, now is not the time to go all X-Man on us! Why're you protectin' her after what happened?!" 

With a somewhat remorseful expression on his face, Todd shrugged. "Because I can't do that to Freddy," he admitted softly. Catching the incredulous look on John's face, he laughed nervously. "Yeah, I know it sounds stupid, but he's one of my best friends. I couldn't hurt him like that, 'specially with the way things are right now." 

"Oh, so let him continue datin' the psycho FoH bitch. Real nice, Todd," St. John said in a voice tinged with disgust. "'Cause _that's_ not gonna hurt him." St. John paused, and his eyes met with Todd's for a moment. The next time he spoke, there was more disappointment in his voice than anything else. "Geez. How could ya do that to Pietro? Not to mention the rest of us." 

The younger boy winced at those words. "Don't say that. It's not like... I..." Todd threw his arms up in the air in frustration. "Oh, forget it, man! I gotta get outta here and get some fresh air or somethin'." 

With a frown, John watched Todd leave, then slowly got up out of the bed. At first, his legs were kinda shaky, but that wasn't anything he couldn't handle through the grand task of walking. He went over to the closet and pulled some clothes out, then, after tossing them on, made his way to Wanda's room. 

The door was locked, of course, so he did the nice-guy thing and knocked. "Hey, luv, can I come in?" 

At first, there wasn't any response. As he was about to knock again, Wanda's shaky voice came out from the other side of the door. 

"I look horrible right now." 

With a half-smile, he replied with, "Aw, sweetie, I've never seen ya look horrible before. It'll be a new experience for the both of us." 

"That's not a good way to get me to open the door." 

"Well, I try," he shrugged. "C'mon, luv. Please?" 

"Johnny, you can't do anything to make this better right now, so please don't try..." 

"Sorry to hear that. Could you at least open the door and make _me_ feel better?" he tried. 

There was another pause, then finally a click as the door was unlocked and Wanda opened it. Her cheeks were wet and a blotchy red, which wouldn't have been all that bad looking had she not been wearing mascara that day. Still, despite the bloodshot eyes, the streaks of makeup, and the red face, he didn't think she looked as horrible as she said. Of course, that could've just been "boyfriend bias" talking. 

"_You_ want comforting?" she asked in a flat voice. 

"I lied," he said softly, with a smile. The door opened a bit further, which gave him the perfect opportunity to reach in and pull her into a tight hug. "I know you don't want me to try, but, hell, I'm stubborn." 

"They took my brother away from me," she said, her voice small, as if it were caught in her throat. She pressed her tear-streaked face in the curve of his shoulder and let out a little sob. "This is the second time-- _the second time_-- that he's been stolen from me!" 

"I know," St. John murmured in reply as he ran his fingers through the curls of her hair. "I know, Wanda." 

"I can't stand it," she whispered. "It shouldn't have been him." 

"We'll get him back, luv, I swear. I'll bet the boss lady is cookin' up a plan as we speak." 

He could feel the way Wanda's head moved when she nodded, and that brought and end to that conversation. They stood there for a while, his arms wrapped around her slender body, her head resting on his shoulder, and after a few minutes, Wanda broke the silence. 

"Thank you for being here... I think I love you," she said into his shirt, her voice muffled somewhat. 

"Me too, Wanda. I think I love you, too." 

* * * * * 

Bobby Drake was confused. Last night was little more than a blur of hicks (y'know, those... New York type hicks...) with guns and a big free-for-all between the Brotherhood and X-Men that Bobby didn't catch half of, since he was too busy "fighting" Johnny to really pay attention to what was going on... until he noticed that odd trick that Johnny did in which he bled and fell down and nearly killed everybody with crazy fire. Then some other crazy crap happened, and once everything was over, the X-Men found themselves missing an Evan. 

Okay, when he summed it up that way, last night seemed a lot less exciting than it really was. Still, it resulted in one missing team member, a few nasty little burns on the others, and little random injuries here and there. Although he was well aware of the necessity of jumping right back to action as soon as possible, Bobby, for some reason, wasn't really expecting to do it first thing the very next day. 

And now, here he was, all dressed up and ready to go and... do something! What that something was, he didn't know. With Scott acting all agitated (more so than usual) and unclear with his answers to Bobby's questions, the boy couldn't help but feel all "what the hell?" as he and the other X-Men piled into the van (or the X-Van or whatever stupid name it had). 

_I wonder where we're going,_ Bobby thought as he leaned over to the side to try to stare out the windshield. It was kinda hard, what with Kitty and Kurt's heads being in his way, but he managed to catch glimpses of the street signs as they passed them. Hmm, he felt like he knew this route. Odd... 

And then, Bobby blinked. 

_Waitasec. This is... hot damn... Johnnyplace! Bobbyboy gets to go to Johnnyplace to see Johnnyguy! Damn, I gotta stop thinking like that... especially when considering the current situation._

"Johnnyplace", also known as "the Brotherhood's house", came into view a few minutes later, and as the van parked, the X-Men hopped out and stood around rather awkwardly as Ororo helped the Professor out. 

"So, um... like, why are we here?" Kitty finally asked, looking around at her settings as if expecting an ambush. 

Before her question could be answered, the front door to the house opened, and a very stoic man with ashen white hair stood before them. 

_Wow, he looks kinda like an older, manlier Pietro..._ Bobby noted, then tilted his head and watched the rest of the Brotherhood nervously step out behind him. Well, at least the X-Men weren't the only ones feeling weird. 

"Magnus," the Professor nodded. 

_Magnus?_ Bobby blinked. He'd heard of the guy before, thanks to the Professor's numerous warnings, but he'd never seen the man. For some reason, he looked nothing like Bobby'd been expecting. 

"Hello, Charles," Magnus said smoothly in reply. "I'm afraid we are not meeting under the best of circumstances." He cast a somewhat disdainful look at the rest of the X-Men, then turned his gaze back to the Professor and said, "I was not aware that our meeting was to be open to _children_, Charles." 

"What's going on concerns them as well," Xavier replied calmly. 

"Very well. Let them stay with the Brotherhood while _we_ discuss matters. After an agreement has been met, they may hear what they like," Magnus answered, casting another glance at the X-Men before he turned to go inside. 

"I will return shortly," the Professor informed the collective teens, before he and Ororo followed Magnus inside, leaving the X-Men staring at the Brotherhood (who, at the moment, looked like veterans of a very nasty battle). 

_Wow, Alvers is looking horrible, and Tolensky doesn't look too well off himself, and Johnny's... got his arm around Wanda. Bobby arched an eyebrow in confusion as he watched the blonde and the auburn haired girl. Is he... whispering sweet nothings into her ear? I thought he was gonna break up-- okay, now they're kissing. Great._

Bobby Drake was _not_, by nature, a jealous guy. Ohhh, no. He was calm. He was... like, Zen or something. Total picture of enlightenment. Nope, that wasn't jealousy he was feeling at the very moment that Johnny kissed Wanda. It was... was... support! Burning, hateful support! 

Luckily, Alvers interrupted Bobby's so-not-jealous thoughts and the general silence that had taken over with a delightful "This is all your fault." 

"This is-- _what_?!" came Scott's angry, disbelieving reply. 

The rock tumbler narrowed his eyes and said, "You heard me, Summers. If you assholes hadn't showed up, _none of this_ would've happened!" 

"Lance, calm down," St. John muttered. "You're still not feelin--" 

"Oh, shut up, John!" Lance snarled as he kept his eyes on Scott. "You should be pissed off, too! You wouldn't have gotten shot if that guy wasn't distracting you!" 

"Hey, whoa, now you're bringing _me_ into this?!" Bobby cried, not quite sure what else to say. Hell, for all he knew, he could have very well been the reason that John had gotten shot. That thought didn't exactly bode well... 

"You've got no right to blame us! It ain't our fault you jerks saw fit to go and attack those guys in th' first place!" Rogue snapped before Bobby had a chance to add anything in his own defense. 

At that, Freddy stepped forward, clenching his fists, ready to attack at the first chance he got. Todd opened his mouth, about ready to egg his friend on, but before all hell could break loose, Scott said: 

"Who cares whose fault it is? It's not just your problem anymore, and it's not ours. We're all in this together now." 

"Bullshit," Lance snorted. "We're not in this together. You're here to get Daniels back, and it's only _convenient_ for you guys that we just so happen to have the same problem." 

"Convenient?! You think this is convenient for us?!" 

With a sneer, Todd spoke up with, "You sure as hell wouldn't be here all ready to help with your 'we're in this together's if it was just Pietro missin'." 

"Of course we would..." Kitty tried lamely, her voice soft and sullen. 

"Don't lie," Wanda said in a harsh voice. "Don't you _dare_ lie. Not when it comes to my brother." 

That promptly shut everybody up. After a moment of nothing happening, Lance shook his head and said, "I'm going inside. No point in standing around out here." He threw a hateful look to the X-Men and added, "You guys might as well come in, too. Y'know, since we're 'in this together'." 

Silently, Wanda pulled herself out of John's arm and went inside, and, hesitantly, the rest followed suit. Well, okay, not the rest. It was more like... everybody excluding Johnny and Bobby. Sure, it would've been a solid "everybody" heading inside; however, Bobby suddenly had one of those rare surges or assertiveness, and he promptly grabbed John's arm to keep the other boy from coming inside. 

"Ow! Mind the arm, Bobby!" 

Oops. Okay, so he grabbed the wrong arm. "Er, sorry," he muttered. "I just wanted to talk to you. Y'know, without everybody else around." 

"Uhhh... you really think this is the best time for that?" 

Bobby shrugged. "I know things have been angsty for, well, everybody, but I just can't listen to them blame each other anymore. I mean, it kinda loses its novelty after a while." 

"Yeah, I guess it does," St. John replied with a hint of a smile. "So, whatcha wanna talk about?" 

"Umm..." 

"Well, you're bein' uncharacteristically hesitant." 

Bobby offered him a smile in response to that comment and said, "It's because you're so hot that I don't know what to say." 

"Oooh, flattery," the blonde laughed. "Seriously, though..." 

"Seriously?" Bobby thought over that for a moment. Honestly, he _didn't_ know what he wanted to talk to St. John about. You see, that moment of assertiveness lasted for only about a split second. In that split second, Bobby had come up with his plan: what he wanted to talk about, how he was going to go about it, how the end results would make everybody in the world happy and would end world hunger and yadda yadda yadda-- and then he forgot it all, which left him standing there holding onto Johnny's arm with a blank mind. And so, he tried again. "Seriously, I just wanna spend a couple minutes not thinking about the big bad mess that's going on," he said with a small sigh. That still wasn't quite what he wanted to say, but it was the best he could do considering that he forgot what he wanted to say. 

"Hm. Not to burst your 'no bad mess' bubble or anything, but... how're you coping with the lack of Daniels?" 

Bobby blinked. Ever since the events of last night, nobody asked him how the situation was affecting him. It was more like "got any wounds? No? Good, because we have to go regroup at the mansion" and then "up and at 'em, Bobby, we've got a big day!" Not that he blamed the Professor or Scott or, well, anybody for not asking him what _he_ thought of the whole situation. After all, they had other things to deal with, such as battle plans or whatever. Still, it had just come to Bobby's realization that he _hadn't_ coped yet. As far as he knew, nobody had. 

_In fact, I've been more concerned with thinking about Johnny than I have been with-- ah, shit. I'm an asshole; a real asshole! Hm With the way I just said that, I might as well be saying "Look, Gepetto, I'm a real boy!"_

Damn it, there he went segueing away from the real issue at hand by thinking about stupid things like Pinnochio again. 

"You know what, Johnny?" he said finally, somewhat uneasily. "I don't think I've been coping much at all. It's like reality is some place miles and miles away from me, and I'm still in some happy gumdrop land where it rains chocolate and everyone's singing and dancing while some really bad stuff's happening far away from me." 

St. John nodded one of those "yeah, I think I understand, and if I don't, I'm gonna make like I do" nods, then put a hand on Bobby's shoulder, surprising the other boy with the unexpected contact. He gave Bobby an encouraging smile and said, "I'd hate it if it rained chocolate." 

Bobby sighed solemnly. "Yeah, I know, I-- _what_?!" 

"I mean, could you imagine the mess it'd make when it melted? And it wouldn't be all that edible, y'know, unless you liked licking melted chocolate off of the pavement. Plus, you'd have one helluvan ant problem." 

"You know... you do have a point there, Johnny..." Bobby mused, half of him cursing the other half for being so happy during such a shitty time. It was like laughing in church or wearing Hawaiian shirts to a funeral or something. "How do you stay so unfazed during times like these? I mean... what keeps you from reacting so negatively like everybody else?" 

St. John thought on that for a moment, pulling away from Bobby. "Repression," he grinned. "Loads of repression." 

* * * * * 

Lance Alvers was tense. Well, that was an understatement. He was beyond tense. He was at that point where if you poked him with a stick, he'd level the whole house. Luckily, nobody had any sticks on them, so the house was safe for the time being. 

Initially, he'd tried his best to eavesdrop on the conversation Magneto, Baldie, Storm, and Mystique had been having, but it was no use, as the younger X-Men were already too busy crowding around the door in attempts to catch whatever the "big plans" were. That left him sitting on the arm of the couch as Freddy and Todd took the rest of the space. 

"This is so stupid," Fred muttered under his breath, only loud enough for the other two to hear. 

"Tell me about it," Todd nodded, casting a dirty look to the X-Geeks. 

Lance took this moment to take a break from gnawing on the inside of his cheek before he managed to bite a hole through it-- well, not that that could actually happen. It'd take a whole lot of gnawing to bite through his cheek, and Lance wasn't up to it. Instead, he opted to rant quietly to his two remaining teammates (should've been four, but nooo, Johnny and Wanda just _couldn't_ stick around and suffer with the rest of them, could they? Not that Lance was bitter...). "Is nothing sacred? It's bad enough that they're always around when we don't need 'em, but damn it, now they're in our _house_." 

"Well, at least they ain't in our beds, yo," Todd offered. 

Lance blinked. "That's... oddly comforting. Doesn't make the situation any better, but hey, at least they're not in my bed." 

For the time being, Lance's tense mood had subsided. Unfortunately, "time being" wound up being "the next two seconds". 

Cue German accent. "Kitty, why don't you phase your head in there and tell us what's going on?" End German accent. 

"Like, no way! You're the one who can go all 'bamf!' and stuff, so why don't you take a quick peek at what's going on?" 

Cue German accent yet again. "Do the words 'sulfur' and 'brimstone' mean anything to you?" 

_Yes_, Lance's brain answered to, well, himself, as he obviously couldn't project his thoughts to Kurt. _Unfortunately, those words mean you're around. Yeesh, why'd they have to start talking? I can almost stand them when they're silent._

Of course, "almost" was the operative word here. Naturally, they were never fully tolerable to Lance, and he figured that was the way it should be. The earth rotated around the sun, water was wet, and the X-Men were annoying little dweebs. 

As two of the annoying little dweebs continued to yammer about going through the door or whatever, Lance tried to find his "happy place". Sadly, he was never one for meditation, so his attempts didn't even get him out reality's door. 

"Hey, um..." 

Lance looked up from the floor (which, he decided, was infinitely more interesting than staring at the X-Men), only to find Summers standing before him, his eyebrows arched in that "I'm trying to display a human emotion and, therefore, looking utterly confused" way. Lance was pretty used to seeing this look (well, naturally, since it was only one of Summers' three facial expressions), as Summers seemed to have it glued to his face whenever he was around Jean Grey. 

"What the hell do you want, Summers?" Lance snapped. Judging by the look on his rival's face, it looked like he was either in for something heartfelt, or something long-winded. If Lance was lucky, it wouldn't be both. 

"Look, I know that we've never been friends." 

"Yeah. Nemesises is more like it," the rock tumbler grumbled, 

"Nemeses," Summers corrected casually. He wasn't pompous about it or anything; it seemed more like an offhand remark, like the kind he'd make to one of his teammates. Still, it didn't make Lance any _less_ annoyed with him. "But, you know, we're going to have to work with each other if we want to get Evan and Pietro back." 

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out," Lance muttered. "You got any more nuggets of wisdom?" 

"Listen, I just want to say that I'm sorry. I know we're never gonna be friends or anything-- I mean, I don't even_want_ to be your friend-- but still, I'm sorry you lost Pietro." 

Lance dragged his gaze back to the floor for a moment, not really in the mood to stare at Summers' sober face. 

_He just _had_ to bring up Pietro, didn't he? Couldn't let me wallow in peace..._

"Thanks for the sympathy," came his dry reply as he shoved thoughts of Pietro aside. He looked up at Scott again and sneered. "So, is this the part where I say 'Oh, hey man, I'm sorry for your loss, too. Evan was a great guy'? 'Cause if that's what you're expecting, don't hold your breath. No, wait, I take that back. Hold your breath, then maybe you'll suffocate, die, and be out of my life forever." 

"There's somethin' I'd like to see," Todd snickered. 

Scott's eyebrows drew together as an irritated look crossed his face. "I should've expected as much from you," he said coldly. 

"Yeah, you should've. And yet here you are; talking." 

Judging by the expressions on the rest of the X-Geeks' faces, a big argument was about to ensue. Luckily, it was averted as St. John and his new goody-good buddy strolled in from outside. 

"Hey, guys," John's pal-- what was his name again?-- greeted. The smile on his face quickly died as he noted the tenseness in the room. "Uh... did we miss something?" 

"Nah," Rogue shrugged. "Alvers was just bein' a dick. Nothin' new there." 

St. John and his friend exchanged a look of "uh... okay", then went to their respective sides, John on the arm of the couch and Bobby against the wall with his teammates. 

Once again, tense silence ensued. Lance tried to keep himself preoccupied by thinking about random inane things, such as "I wonder how many clean socks I have left" and "I bet the milk's gone bad". For the most part, he was able to refrain from thinking about Pietro. 

He didn't know how much time had passed before the doors to the adjacent room were flung open, and Magneto and Co. stepped out with a bit of a flourish. No words were exchanged between the adults or the opposing teams; rather, Magneto and Cueball nodded to each other, and the wheelchair-bound man turned to his team and said, "Come. We've much to discuss back at the Institute." 

Silently, the X-Men followed, and once the front door slammed shut, Magneto spoke. 

"Cerebro has found no trace of Pietro's signature. For now, the Xavier and the X-Men are useless to us." 

Immediately, the expressions on the boys' faces brightened. 

"Great! No more makin' nice with the enemy!" Todd chirped, only to receive a stony look from Magneto. 

"I said '_for now_'. In due time, they will have their uses." 

Lance managed a bored look. He'd practiced long and hard to achieve the perfect "I'm so bored with authority figures" facial expression, and it worked well to convey just how much of a "rebel" and "badass" he was. Many a teacher had been set off towards doubt and annoyance thanks to his patented Lance Alvers look. Of course, it was a commonly known fact that Magneto was, in fact, quite immune to such looks, and thus Lance's attempt at mini-rebellion was fruitless. Still, habit kept him looking like he couldn't care less about the current situation. "So," he said in a nonchalant manner. "What's the big plan, then? I mean, if we don't have that fancy locator of theirs to find Pietro, how the hell are we gonna know where to begin?" 

"Through infiltration, Avalanche," Magneto answered simply. "Mystique shall garner information pertinent to the whereabouts of Pietro from the Friends of Humanity." 

"But, they know we're after 'em," Freddy said, pulling one of those wacky "voice of reason" things that was so rare coming from him. "We don't even know where their real headquarters are!" 

John looked up from the lighter he'd kept himself occupied with, looking more alert than he'd had the whole day. "We don't," he agreed with a little shrug. "You, however, know someone who _does_." There was a hint of a malicious undertone in his voice as he said this, which caused Todd to spring to his feet. 

"No way, Johnny," he hissed, trying to keep his voice soft, despite the fact that it was pretty clear to everybody else in the room that he had something to hide. 

"Oh, sod off, Todd!" the blonde snapped. He turned his attention to Mystique and Magneto and ignored the confused looks he was getting from his other teammates. "Freddy's chick is in with the good ol' FoH," he explained. "That's how they knew what we were up to that night, 'cause the big genius over there went an' blabbed it to her!" 

"Damn it, I _trusted_ you with that info!" came Todd's betrayed cry in as Fred's burst out with: "What the hell are you talking about?! Amy's got nothin' to do with those guys!" 

"Wait wait wait... you're saying that _Amy's_ responsible for this mess?" Lance asked incredulously. 

"Yeah. We pro'lly woulda been able to just go in, destroy the bastards, and leave without any problem if it weren't for her warnin' her pals ahead of time," John said bitterly. 

Now it was Fred's turn to stand up and defend his "lady". "Don't listen to him. You know how much he hates her; he'd say anything to pin the blame on her!" 

"Yeah," the pyrokinetic drawled, his voice taking on a snide tone. "I hate her _so_ much that I ran into a room filled with fully armed wackos, let myself get shot, and set the building ablaze while my friends were still inside, _just_ so I could blame her afterwards." 

Magneto shook his head, absorbing the information that was just presented to him. Naturally, he had never taken any interest in the Blob's social life (as he was quite sure that his brain would simply atrophy from prolonged exposure); however, this girl they had been speaking of sounded as though she could provide some information of use to the Brotherhood. He opened his mouth to command them to shut up and stop arguing; however, went unnoticed when the Blob cut him off before he could begin speaking. He shot a look to Mystique, who appeared as though she was growing bored with the exchanges between the boys, although a faint hint of wry amusement was evident in her expression. 

"Geez, what's _with_ you, Johnny?! You've had it in for Amy since Day One! Can't ya just accept the fact that you're not the _only_ one in this group that can get a stable girlfriend?!" 

Todd looked from John to Freddy, then directed his next comment to the Blob. "Who says _his_ girlfriend's stable? The way I hear it, Johnny can't keep Wanda satisfied, so she's gotta run off lookin' to _Daniels_ for what she wants." 

Lance stood up quickly, and turned to face Todd. "Shut the hell up!" he snarled. "Wanda wouldn't do that kinda shit with Daniels, so don't drag her into this!" Normally, Lance wouldn't be so quick to jump to Wanda's defense (since the worst arguments involving Pietro's witchy sis usually sprang from trivial little things that everybody forgot about ten minutes later, anyway), but, well, at the moment it just seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, he was doing it more for Pietro's sake than for Wanda's. 

"Oh, please, I see 'em at school! They're all over each other!" 

At that last comment, St. John reached out and grabbed Todd (unfortunately, with his bad arm) by the front of the shirt. The younger mutant let out a little yelp as a fist was about to descend on his face, when the day was saved by Freddy, who grabbed hold of the pyrokinetic's hand and yanked him over to prime "hittin' range". 

"_Enough_!!" 

With that, the boys found themselves none too gently flung to opposite sides of the room; Lance and St. John to one, and Todd and Freddy to the other. Magneto and Mystique stood over them, and energy crackled from the elder man's hand. Normally, Magneto's face didn't betray any emotion; however, now, he was looking pretty pissed off. This didn't bode well for the Brotherhood boys. 

"Oww... That hurt," St. John grumbled, sitting up. 

"Good," Fred muttered from his side of the room. 

"I do not have time for your petty squabbles!" Magneto roared. Actually, he didn't so much "roar" as "speak very loudly and forcibly", but that was irrelevant, as his words held the same meaning no matter how they were said. Essentially, he wasn't pleased, and he wasn't about to have the Brotherhood waste his time further. "Now," he continued, his voice lowered and far more calm than it had previously been, "explain the situation to me. Coherently." 

The boys looked at each other, wondering which one was going to go ahead and explain. Naturally, Lance was out of the running, since he was with Magneto on the "what the hell is going on?" train. So, that left the others, none of whom were feeling all that ready to talk at the moment. 

"Go ahead, Todd. Tell the boss-man what happened," John said in a seemingly pleasant tone of voice. 

The younger boy shot him a dirty look, then sighed. "Fine. I saw Amy in the FoH crowd when everything started gettin' shitty." He looked down at his hands, as he wringed them absently. "And... I think she was in on it. I mean, I'm pretty sure she was." 

Fred shook his head in disbelief. "No... She couldn't be-- I mean, she _wouldn't_." 

Magneto glowered at Fred and said, "What have you told this girl?" 

"Nothing!" There was a pause. "Okay, maybe-- _maybe_-- I told her some stuff about what we're all about-- I just thought she was interested in what I was doing, y'know..." he trailed off guiltily. 

"So, this is all _your_ fault?!" Lance stood up and took some steps towards Freddy, only to find himself stopped midway by Magneto's powers. "You fucking idiot! How could you do something so goddamn stupid?! Pietro's _gone_ because of you!" 

"My sentiments exactly," St. John said, rolling his eyes. 

Magneto turned his attention to Mystique, who was watching the events go by, and said, "Mystique, take Pyro, find the girl, and bring her here." 

"Gladly," she said dryly. She took a few striding steps over to the Australian and held a hand out to him, pulling him up as he accepted. 

"Hey, why does he have ta go?" Todd spoke up, despite the lack of shock. Of _course_ Magneto would want stupid perfect St. John Allerdyce to go on the impromptu mission. It just figured that the blonde always got special treatment. Bitterness aside, Todd normally wouldn't have cared about being forced on short missions; however, it just seemed to add insult to, well, more insult to have John go and get Freddy's girlfriend. And besides, why _did_ Mystique hold her hand out to John? She never did that to _him_ when _he_ was on the ground. 

"Because, Toad," Magneto said, his voice filled with contempt for the young mutant, "I trust him not to let his personal feelings get in the way, as they would with you." While the comment was directed at Todd, it was clear that the "you" was pretty universally directed towards all of the Brotherhood boys. 

"What're you gonna do to her?" Freddy asked, trying to keep his cool despite the anger that was very quickly rising in him. Fear managed to keep him in check for the time being. 

"_I_ am simply going to question her, Blob. You needn't fear for her safety," Magneto answered, a faint trace of a smile apparent on his face. 

"We'll get right to it," Mystique said smoothly, and, as St. John shot a rather unpleasant grin to Freddy and Todd, the two left the house. 

As the front door slammed shut, silence filled the house. 

* * * * *

A/N: I apologize for the lack of... most of the characters not doing anything in this chapter. Sure, the X-Men should have more to say, and sure, it's uncharacteristic for bossy ol' Mystique to stand around for pages not saying anything; however, I was trying to limit the people in the conversations so that it'd flow easier. Hope it worked. Besides, Mystique's got her own things to think about right now... >:D 

Stay tuned for the next chapter, where there's a little bit o' violence, and where the big plot may rear its nasty head! 


End file.
